YCHOLOGY 
AS -APPLIED  TO 

EJDU'CATION 


MAGNUSSON 


liilRDKTT 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

LOS  ANGELES 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  Damped 


NORMAL  SCHOOL 

LOS  ANGELES* 


V 


PSYCHOLOGY 

AS  APPLIED  TO 

EDUCATION 


BY 


P.  M.   MAGNUSSON,   PH.D. 

STATE  NORMAL  SCHOOL 
ST.  CLOUD,  MINNESOTA 

277<£  X 


SILVER,   BURDETT  AND  COMPANY 

BOSTON  NEW  YORK  CHICAGO 


COPYRIGHT,  1913,  BY 
SILVER,  BURDETT  AND  COMPANY 


PREFACE 

THIS  book  does  not  attempt  to  cover  the  whole  field  of 
modern  psychology.  Its  scope  is  limited  to  those  aspects 
of  the  vast  subject  which  form  the  basis  for  rational  edu- 
cation. It  aims  not  only  to  present  these  principles  in 
compact  form,  but  also  to  show  their  practical  application 
to  the  problems  of  the  schoolroom. 

This  work  has  "grown  up"  in  the  classroom.  There 
is  scarcely  a  sentence  in  the  book  that  has  not  been  used 
repeatedly  in  the  author's  classes  in  psychology.  The 
author  has  found  it  a  good  plan  in  his  own  teaching  of  the 
subject  to  require  every  pupil  to  bring  to  class  a  written 
summary  of  the  previous  lesson.  At  the  beginning  of 
each  recitation  there  is  a  brief  review  and  a  few  of  the 
pupils  read  their  written  summaries.  These  summaries, 
besides  being  brief  general  statements,  should  also  con- 
tain a  liberal  number  of  examples  and  illustrations. 

In  the  recitations,  the  teacher  should  insist  especially 
on  these  two  points :  (a)  numerous  and  varied  illustra- 
tions and  examples,  as  it  is  only  through  the  gate  of  the 
concrete  that  a  saving  knowledge  of  anything  can  ever  be 
reached ;  and  (6)  exact  and  clear  definitions,  showing 
that  the  pupil  has  grasped  the  coordinating  principles 
which  underlie  the  concrete  instances.  To  aid  in  this 
work,  most  chapters  have  appended  a  set  of  exercises  that 
have  been  found  helpful. 

iii 


iv  Preface 

I  cannot  close  this  foreword  without  acknowledging  my 
obligation  to  the  friends  and  colleagues  who  have  con- 
tributed ideas  and  inspiration  for  this  work.  I  must 
refrain  from  mentioning  names,  except  those  of  Miss  Isa- 
bel Lawrence  and  Dr.  Waite  A.  Shoemaker,  President  of 
the  State  Normal  School  at  St.  Cloud,  Minnesota.  Many 
of  the  essentials  of  this  book  are  the  result  of  sixteen 
years  of  professional  intercourse  with  the  well-poised  and 
trenchant  mind  of  Dr.  Shoemaker. 

P.  M.  MAGNUSSON 


PUBLISHERS'  NOTE 

The  publishers  wish  to  acknowledge  their  indebtedness 
to  Professor  Herbert  W.  Conn  of  Wesleyan  University 
and  Professor  Robert  A.  Budington  of  Oberlin  College  for 
the  use  of  several  illustrations  from  their  "Advanced 
Physiology  and  Hygiene." 


CONTENTS 

PART  I 
ANALYTIC  PSYCHOLOGY 

CHAPTER 

I.    INTRODUCTION 3 

Value  of  Practical  Psychology  to  the  Educator,  3.    The        / 
Subject  Matter  of  Psychology,  5.    The  Three  Aspects  of 
the  Mind,  7.    The  Triangle  of  Education,  8. 

(A).  The  Intellect 

IL     SENSATION  AND  THE  SENSES 10 

Sensation  Defined,  10.  Classification  of  the  Senses,  11. 
The  Sense  of  Sight,  12.  The  Sense  of  Hearing,  14.  The 
Sense  of  Touch,  16.  The  Muscular  or  Motor  Sense,  16. 
The  Sense  of  Smell,  16.  The  Sense  of  Taste,  16.  The 
Temperature  Sense,  16.  The  Organic  Senses,  16.  Weber's 
Law,  17.  The  Spatial  Element,  19.  The  Pedagogy  of  Sen- 
sation, 19.  Analysis  of  the  Sensations,  20-21. 

III.  PERCEPTION 

An  Analysis  of  Perception,  26 .  The  Element  from  Past 
Experience,  Apperception,  27.  The  Sensations  as  Factors 
in  Perception,  29.  The  Training  of  Perception,  84. 

IV.  IMAGINATION 36 

Imagination  and  Perception,  36.  Kinds  of  Imagination, 
37.  Practical  Value  of  Imagination,  37.  The  Training  of 
the  Imagination,  38.  The  Abuse  of  the  Imagination,  40. 

V.    MEMORY 43 

The  Physical  Basis  of  Memory,  43.  Analysis  of  Memory, 
44.  Sense  Classes  of  Memory,  46.  The  Two  Kinds  of 
Memory,  47.  The  Pedagogy  of  Memory,  60. 

v 


vi  Contents 

CHAPTim  PAGE 

VI.    CONCEPTION  AND  JUDGMENT 58 

Concepts,  their  Formation  and  Application,  53.  Class 
Concepts  and  Practical  Concepts,  54.  Symbol  and  Con- 
cept, 56.  The  Right  Kind  of  Concepts,  58.  The  Logical 
Classes  of  Concepts,  59.  Judgment,  60. 

VII.    REASONING 62 

Inductive  Reasoning,    62.      Deductive   Reasoning,   68. 
Pedagogy  of  Reasoning,  69.    Summary  of  Stages  of  Men-  • 
tal  Activity,  72. 

VIII.    How  WE  THINK  :  ATTENTION      .       .  .       .        .74 

Three  Phases  of  the  Knowledge-making  Activity,  74. 
Meaning  of  Term  "Attention,"  74.  Characteristics  of 
Attention,  76.  How  the  Mind  acts  in  Attention,  79. 
Kinds  of  Attention,  80.  Interest,  82.  The  Pedagogy 
of  Attention,  83. 

IX.    How  WE  THINK:  ANALYSIS  AND  COMPARISON   .        .        .      87 

Function  of  Analysis  and  Comparison,  87.    Pedagogy 
•  of  Analysis  and  Comparison,  89. 

X.    How  WE  THINK  :   ASSOCIATION,  OB  SYNTHESIS   .        .        .    %  92 
Kinds  of  Association,  92.    The  Physical  Basis  of  Asso- 
ciation, 94.    Association  an  Aspect  of  Every  Mental  Ac- 
tivity, 95.    The  Organization  of  our  Associations,  96. 


(B).  The  Motives  and  Feelings 

XI.    MAN  AS  A  REACTING  ORGANISM  .        .    •    .        .        .        .98 
The  Different  Kinds  of  Stimuli,  98.    Impulse  Defined,  99. 
Gradation  of  Motives,  103. 

XII.    FEELINGS,  IMPULSES,  AND  THEIR  EXPRESSION      .        .        .    106 
The  Relation  of  Feeling  to  Impulse,  105.    Common  Char- 
acteristics of  Emotions  and  Impulses,  110.     Expression 
of  Impulses  and  Emotions,  111. 

XIII.    FEELINGS  AND  IMPULSES  CLASSIFIED  .....     118 
Classification  of  Feelings  and  Impulses,  118.    Discus- 
sion of  Classification,  119. 


Contents  vii 

CHAPTER  PAGK 

XIV.     THE  CONTROL  AND  DEVELOPMENT  OF  CERTAIN  IMPULSES 

AND  EMOTIONS .     127 

The  Emotions  of  Self-preservation,  127.  The  Social  Emo- 
tions and  Interests,  132.  Fatigue  and  Industry,  135. 
Perverted  Emotional  States,  138.  The  Hygiene  of  the 
Emotions,  140. 

XV.    CULTURE 144 

The  Inner  Side  of  Experience,  144.  The  Norm,  146. 
An  Analysis  of  Culture,  147.  Means  of  acquiring  Cul- 
ture, 149. 

XVI.     HABIT 163 

The  Physical  Basis  of  Habit,  163.  The  Two  Classes 
of  Habits,  154.  Function  of  Habit  in  the  Economy  of 
Life,  165.  Laws  of  Habit,  156.  Habit  and  Age,  160. 
Habits  as  Elements  in  Character,  161. 

XVII.     IDEALS,  OR  RATIONAL  INTERESTS 165 

Impulse  as  a  Motive  for  Action,  165.  A  Higher  Mo- 
tive for  Action,  Rational  Interest,  168. 

XVHI.    OUR  SELVES 172 

Our  Rational  Interests,  Ideal  Selves,  172.  Our  System 
of  Selves,  173.  The  Historical  Evolution  of  Ideals, 
176.  The  Development  of  the  Ideal  Personality,  178. 

XIX.    THE  WILL 182 

Two  Classes  of  Voluntary  Action,   182.    The  Motor 
Process  and  the  Voluntary  Process,  184.     General  Con-    ^ 
spectus  of  the  Active  Side  of  Human  Nature,  185.    The 
Education  of  the  Will,  18V. 

XX.    THE  CREATION  OP  IDEALS  K     .        .        .        .        .        .    190 

The  Failure  of  Abstract  Morality,  190.  The  Best  Method 
of  Moral  Instruction,  192.  The  Cultivation  of  High 
Ideals,  195. 

XXL    CHARACTER      * 197 

Elements  of  a  Well-developed  Character,  197.  Sum- 
mary, 199. 


viii  Contents 

(C).   Subconsciousness 

OHAPTIK  PAOB 

XXII.    THE  SUBCONSCIOUS  LIFE 201 

The  Field  of  Consciousness,  201.  The  Tendency  to 
Beact,  202.  The  Stream  of  Thought,  205.  Effect  of 
Subconscious  Life  upon  Health  and  Character,  206. 
Suggestive  Power  of  Thoughts  and  Feelings  of  Others, 
212.  Summary,  216. 

(D).  Child  Study 
XXIH.    CHILDHOOD 220 

Value  of  Child  Study  to  the  Teacher,  220.  The  Periods 
in  the  Evolution  of  the  Mind,  221.  The  Two  Ages  of 
Childhood,  221.  The  Child  not  a  Miniature  of  the 
Adult,  222.  How  Children  Think,  222.  The  Child's 
Impulsive  and  Emotional  Life,  227.  Children's  Inter- 
ests and  how  to  appeal  to  Them,  229.  The  Ethics  of 
Childhood  and  of  Antiquity,  232.  Summary,  236. 

XXIV.     EARLY  ADOLESCENCE  AND  YOUTH 238 

General  Characteristics  of  Early  Adolescence,  238. 
Adolescence  the  Time  for  Character  Formation,  240. 
Teaching  the  Adolescent  to  know  Himself,  243.  Sum- 
mary of  Adolescence,  246.  Youth,  246.  Contrast 
between  Childhood  and  Youth,  246.  Medievalism  and 
the  Ethics  of  Youth,  248.  Comparison  of  Youth  and 
Maturity,  250.  The  Sphere  of  Instruction  for  Youth, 
252. 

PART  II 

PEDAGOGICAL  APPLICATION  OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

XXV.    THE  ART  OF  STUDYING 255 

Eye,  Ear,  and  Hand,  255.  The  Proper  Attitude  for 
Study,  258.  Suggestions  in  Regard  to  the  Notebook, 
261. 

XXVI.    THE  RECITATION 264 

The  Purposes  of  the  Recitation,  264.  The  Test,  264. 
Drill,  266.  Training  in  Thought,  268.  Training  in 
Culture,  270.  The  Art  of  Questioning,  271.  The 
Pupils  as  Critics,  272, 


Contents  ix 

CHAPTER  PAO» 

XXVII.      HOW   TO  TEACH   SCIENCE,  AND  WHAT   SCIENCE  TO  TEACH      274 

The  Double  Object  of  Scientific  Study,  274.  The 
Place  of  Science  in  the  School  Curriculum,  276.  The 
Natural  Sciences,  277.  Mathematics,  279.  The  Social 
Sciences,  280.  The  Sciences  of  Language,  282.  The 
Teacher  and  the  Pupil,  283. 

XXVin.     How  TO  TEACH  AN  ART 286 

A  Fallacy  of  Educational  Theory,  285.  Education 
in  Science  and  in  Art  Contrasted,  287.  The  Place  of 
the  Culture  and  Arts  of  Civilization  in  the  School  Cur- 
riculum, 288.  The  Intellectual  Arts,  289.  The  Intel- 
lectual and  ^Esthetic  Arts,  290.  The  Esthetic  Arts, 
294.  Social  Culture,  297. 

XXIX.  THE  PEDAGOGY  OF  TECHNICAL  HABITS  ....  300 
Physical  Education,  300.  How  Writing  should  be 
Taught,  303.  Manual  Training,  Sloyd,  304.  Indus- 
trial Education,  305.  Elementary  Agriculture,  308. 
Domestic  Economy,  811.  Sewing,  311.  Commercial 
Subjects,  312. 

XXX.    EDUCATIONAL  REORGANIZATION 314 

The  Montessori  Method,  314.  The  Boy  Scout  Move- 
ment, 326.  The  Reorganization  of  the  Curriculum, 
327.  The  Function  of  Education,  330. 

APPENDIX,  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM 331 

INDEX  .    339 


PART  I 
PSYCHOLOGY 


CHAFiEK  1 

•277£^ 
INTRODUCTION 

VALUE  OF  PRACTICAL  PSYCHOLOGY  TO  THE  EDUCATOR 

"  EDUCATION  consists  in  the  organizing  of  resources 
in  the  human  being,  of  powers  of  conduct  which  shall 
fit  him  to  his  social  and  physical  world,  "  says  William 
James.  Thus,  education  has  a  twofold  aspect :  first, 
to  develop  what  is  in  the  individual  to  a  harmonious 
whole,  and  second,  to  fit  the  individual  into  his  place 
in  society.  But  the  individual  is  a  bunch  of  human 
nature;  and  society  is  a  bundle  of  such  bunches  of 
human  nature.  Hence  it  is  evident  that  education 
is  throughout  a  developing,  organizing,  and  harmo- 
nizing of  human  nature. 

It  follows  that  psychology  is  the  one  indispensable 
science  for  him  who  would  educate  human  beings, 
whether  he  be  teacher  or  parent. 

And  still  the  paradox  is  true  that  probably  no  study 
has  been  more  barren  of  results  to  the  teacher  than  psy- 
chology. Less  than  a  generation  ago  psychology  had  the 
same  relation  to  teaching  that  the  science  of  formal  logic 
has  to  thinking.  It  was  too  abstract  and  theoretic 
to  be  useful.  The  subtle,  speculative  classifications 
and  distinctions  of  psychology  treated  as  a  branch  of 
metaphysics  have  no  practical  value  to  the  teacher. 
Likewise  modern  laboratory  psychology  is,  when  "  taken 
straight,"  quite  indigestible.  The  scientist  who  wishes 

3 


4  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

to  specialize  in  psychology  requires  one  kind  of  in- 
struction, the  teacher  or  parent  quite  another. 

Thus  it  comes  to  pass  that  just  as  we  have  agricul- 
tural botany,  industrial  chemistry,  and  homiletic  the- 
ology, we  have  developed  an  educational  psychology. 
Here  we  leave  ultimate  questions  of  metaphysics  un- 
answered, just  as  we  do  in  every  other  practical  science ; 
not  because  such  questions  should  not  be  answered 
or  cannot  be  answered,  but  because  metaphysics  is 
of  theoretic  interest  only.  Here  we  busy  ourselves 
with  the  highways  of  the  science,  follow  the  beaten 
paths,  and  ignore  the  byways  and  the  frontier;  be- 
cause happily,  as  a  rule,  the  useful  is  the  obvious,  and 
the  commonplace  is  the  most  vital.  And  everywhere 
we  look  at  questions  primarily  from  the  practical  side. 
Our  theoretic  interest  is  only  secondary. 

The  human  mind  is  of  practical  interest  to  us  as  the 
source  and  explanation  of  human  behavior.  The  sim- 
plest psychologic  view  of  man  is  that  he  is  a  sensitive 
organism  that  reacts.  Practical  psychology  is  a  study 
of  what  stimuli  produce  what  reactions.  It  is  a  study 
of  how  human  nature  behaves.  It  is  this  practical 
side  of  psychology  which  is  the  especial  interest  of 
this  book. 

The  great  instrument  of  the  mind  is  the  nervous 
system.  By  means  of  the  nervous  system  the  mind 
controls  the  body  and  receives  (through  the  senses)  its 
knowledge  of  the  material  world.  To  the  student  of 
psychology,  a  knowledge  of  the  nervous  system*  is 
invaluable.  He  should  understand  the  structure  of  the 
great  center  of  this  system,  the  brain,  and  the  structure 

*  See  Appendix :  The  Nervous  System. 


Introduction  5 

of  the  spinal  cord,  and  should  be  able  to  trace  the  course 
of  a  nerve  current  from  its  excitation  by  a  stimulus 
to  the  producing  of  a  reaction. 

Practical  psychology  is  the  oldest  science  in  the 
world  and  a  science  that  all  but  hermits  must  study. 
Here  we  shall  try  to  systematize,  clarify,  and  make 
explicit  what  the  reader  has  known  and  practiced  all 
his  life. 

THE  SUBJECT  MATTER  OF  PSYCHOLOGY 

"  Cogito,  ergo  sum,"  "  I  think,  therefore  I  exist," 
is  the  famous  dictum  of  Descartes,  which  he  made  the 
corner  stone  of  his  philosophy.  The  expression  has 
been  much  criticised.  Scarcely  any  modern  thinker 
is  satisfied  with  it  the  way  it  stands ;  and  still,  some- 
how we  cannot  escape  the  grip  of  it.  For,  after  all, 
we  do  know  of  our  own  existence  in  a  direct  and  un- 
qualified way.  We  are  conscious  of  other  objects,  but 
we  recognize  ourselves  as  that  which  is  conscious. 

When  we  try  to  satisfy  ourselves  as  to  what  conscious- 
ness is,  we  meet  with  more  or  less  difficulty.  It  is  easy 
to  see  that  our  voluntary  acts  are  expressions  of  the 
mind,  of  consciousness.  On  the  other  hand,  many  of 
our  acts  are  involuntary  and  seem  to  be  operated  by 
some  mechanism  within  us,  rather  than  by  any  con- 
scious effort.  It  seems  almost  incredible  that  the 
same  force  loves,  decides,  imagines,  yearns,  feels  pain 
and  hunger,  sends  the  blood  coursing  through  the  veins, 
digests  food,  and  performs  all  the  various  functions  of 
the  body. 

Yet  there  is  overwhelming  testimony  to  show  that 
the  human  being  is  a  unit  and  that  it  is  the  same  force 


6  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

—  the  mind,  the  self,  consciousness  —  that  acts  in  the 
highest  and  lowest  processes  of  the  human  organism. 
Every  swell  of  the  emotions  is  recorded  in  the  heart- 
beat ;  a  fit  of  anger  may  impede  and  even  stop  diges* 
tion;  and  the  thought  of  vinegar  will  stimulate  the 
salivary  glands  to  increased  activity.  Conversely, 
dyspepsia  causes  ill  humor;  and  the  presence  of  a 
little  alcohol  in  the  blood  and  in  the  nervous  system 
will,  for  the  time  being,  change  a  person's  character 
and  morals,  thoughts  and  feelings.  All  the  activities, 
from  the  highest  reason  to  the  lowest  vital  functions, 
are  carried  on  by  one  and  the  same  entity;  there  is 
a  continuum  all  the  way  from  our  highest  artistic 
aspirations  to  that  within  us  which  secretes  the  bile 
or  sends  the  phagocytes  to  a  wound. 

However,  only  a  very  small  part  of  our  being  is  known 
to  us  by  the  immediate  testimony  of  consciousness. 
The  field  of  consciousness  is  very  much  like  the  field 
of  vision.  Only  an  infinitesimally  small  region  is  abso- 
lutely clear.  This  clear  field  is  surrounded  by  a  twi- 
light zone  of  thoughts,  feelings,  and  impulses  that  are 
but  dimly  perceived.  The  twilight  zone  gradually 
darkens  as  it  extends  out  from  the  clear  center  until 
it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  it  from  the  absolute 
night  of  the  absence  of  consciousness.  Thus,  because 
we  cannot  discover  consciousness  in  a  certain  function, 
is  no  proof  that  it  contains  none.  That  organic  func- 
tions of  the  body  and  reflex  actions  are  expressions 
of  consciousness  is  proved  by  the  fact  that  they  all 
respond  to  suggestion. 

The  subject  matter  of  psychology  is  then  the  whole 
conscious  human  being.  While,  in  order  to  under- 


Introduction  7 

stand  this  conscious  being,  we  must  analyze  it  into  its 
various  states  and  processes,  we  should  not  lose  sight 
of  the  fact  that  it  is  one  force,  not  a  series  of  separate 
forces. 


THE  THREE  ASPECTS  OF  THE  MIND 

We  act,  we  feel,  we  think.  This  is  the  time-honored 
division  of  mental  ^Kenomena.  Here  we  must  be 
careful  not  to  allow  a  materialistic  conception  to  creep 
in.  We  must  not  conceive  the  mind  as  three  pigeon- 
holes, in  one  of  which  there  are  actions,  in  the  next 
feelings,  and  in  the  last  thought.  Nor  must  we  con- 
ceive the  mind  as  a  "  three  in  one  "  tool,  which  can  be 
used  one  moment  for  thinking  and  the  next  for  action 
or  feeling.  For  these  are  three  aspects  only  of  one  and 
the  same  activity  of  the  same  mind.  Every  act  of 
the  mind  involves  the  whole  mind,  and  every  act  of 
the  mind  is  motor,  intellectual,  and  sentient.  Only 
in  thought  may  we  make  an  artificial  abstraction  and 
think  of  one  aspect  apart  from  the  rest.  Just  as  we 
can  easily  think  of  one  side  of  a  sheet  of  paper,  so  we 
can  think  of  the  aspects  of  the  mind  separately.  But 
we  cannot  carry  away  one  side  of  a  sheet  of  paper 
without  also  taking  the  opposite  side  along;  nor  can 
we  think  without  feeling  and  motive,  nor  act  without 
thought  and  feeling. 

But  though  it  is  true  that  all  three  aspects  of  the 
mind  are  present  in  every  act,  it  does  not  follow  that 
the  emphasis  falls  equally  on  all  three.  Thus  one 
state  of  mind  may  be  full  of  motive  force,  but  be  de- 
ficient in  thought  and  feeling,  as  when  a  person  of 


8 


Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 


strong  will  persists  in  athletic  practices.  In  solving 
a  problem  in  algebra,  intellect  predominates  and  there 
is  but  a  trace  of. motive  and  feeling. 

Activity,  sensibility,  intelligence;  to  do,  to  feel,  to 
know ;  motives,  feelings,  thoughts,  —  these  are  the  three 
aspects  of  the  mind,  consciousness,  human  nature. 

THE  TRIANGLE  OF  EDUCATION 

Since  every  human  mind  has  these  three  aspects, 
education  to  be  effective  must  develop  the  individual 
in  each  of  these  directions.  The  educated  man  is 
known  by  his  trained  and  refined  sensibilities  and  the 
coordination  of  his  activities  as  well  as  by  his  capacity 
for  clear  thinking. 

The  following  diagram  illustrates  the  conception  of 
complete  education  as  conceived  in  this  book  :  — 


ART 
Education 

of 
Activities 


/DEALS 
Education 

of 
PERSONALITY 


Education 
of      . 
Thought 


CULTURE 

Education 

of 
Feeling 


Introduction  9 

Exercises  and  Illustrations 

1.  (A  Hindu  example  of  aspect.)     Around  the  market  place 
are  placed  mirrors.     In  every  mirror  the  same  market  place  is 
seen.     But  there  is  a  different  scene  in  every  mirror. 

2.  How  much  shorter  the  same  distance  looks  from  the  bottom 
of  the  tower  than  from  the  top. 

3.  Expand  the  following  examples  of  the  three  aspects  of 
human  nature.     Tell  which  is  most  prominent  in  each. 

a.  Boy  sees  fish.  Baits  hook,  lets  down  into  water.  Catch ! 
Lands  the  fish.  —  Young  man  stands  just  under  the  eaves, 
makes  his  best  bow  to  somebody.  Snow  on  eaves  loosens  — 
falls  —  between  collar  and  neck.  Oh ! 

6.    6  X  6  =  36. 

c.   Singing  a  hymn. 

4.  Define  the  three  aspects  of  the  mind. 

5.  Diagrams  that  show  the  importance  of  viewpoint:  — 

The  world  as  God  knows  it:  123456789 
The  world  as  you  (1)  perceive  it:  J[  23456789 

What  the  world  is  to  9:  12345678  9 
What  5  realizes  of  the  world:  i  2  3  4  5  6  7  8  • 


(A).  The  Intellect 

CHAPTER  II 

SENSATION   AND   THE   SENSES 
SENSATION  DEFINED 

BY  means  of  the  nervous  system  the  mind  and  the 
material  universe  enter  into  relation.  The  nervous 
system  is  stimulated  by  external  agencies,  and  the 
mind  in  reacting  to  such  stimulation  has  sensations, 
feelings,  and  impulses. 

Fundamentally  and  primarily  the  mental  reaction 
to  a  sense  stimulus  is  an  impulse  to  some  motor  activity. 

A  certain  degree  of  pleasure  or  pain  accompanies 
the  excitation  of  every  impulse.  Hence  one  aspect 
of  every  impulse  is  a  feeling. 

Again,  if  an  impulse  is  far  enough  up  in  the  light  of 
consciousness,  we  know  we  have  the  impulse  and  the 
feeling.  This  aspect  has  been  called  a  sensation. 

Thus,  the  reaction  of  the  mind  to  a  sense  stimulus 
has  three  aspects,  and  is  at  the  same  time  an  impulse, 
a  feeling,  and  a  sensation. 

Considered  as  a  cognitive  process  the  mental  reaction, 
then,  may  be  called  a  sensation.  The  same  mental 
event  is  called  a  feeling  when  we  are  concerned  with 
the  pleasure  or  pain  of  it,  and  an  impulse  when  we  think 
of  its  motor  aspect. 

10 


Sensation  and  the  Senses  11 

A  sensation  is,  then,  the  intellectual  aspect  of  the 
reaction  of  the  mind  (consciousness)  in  response  to  a 
neural  stimulus. 

CLASSIFICATION  OF  THE  SENSES 

In  order  to  respond  perfectly  to  the  stimulations  of 
the  external  world,  man  has  developed  various  senses, 
each  of  which  is  equipped  with  end-organs  adapted  to 
the  receiving  of  some  special  kind  of  stimulus. 

Thus,  we  have  the  sense  of  sight,  whose  sense  or- 
gan, the  eye,  is  adapted  to  the  receiving  of  light  waves, 
the  sense  of  smell,  whose  sense  organ,  the  nose,  is 
sensitive  to  gases,  and  so  on. 

In  the  following  classification  we  have  differentiated 
the  senses  according  to  the  stimuli  which  they  are 
adapted  to  receive,  and  grouped  them  as  to  their  rela- 
tive importance  in  furnishing  the  mind  with  data  for 
knowledge. 

A.  Special  Senses. 

I.   The  major  special  senses :  — 

1.  The  sense  of  sight. 

2.  The  sense  of  hearing. 

3.  The  sense  of  touch. 

4.  The  motor  sense. 

II.   The  minor  special  senses :  — 

1.  The  sense  of  smell. 

2.  The  sense  of  taste. 

3.  The  sense  of  temperature. 

B.  Organic  Senses.  —  From  these  we  have  such  sen- 
sations as :  pain  from  a  wounded  nerve,  hunger,  thirst, 
dizziness,  feelings  of  health^  energy,  and  fatigue. 


12 


Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 


We  will  consider  first  the  various  ways  in  which  the 
nervous  system  is  stimulated,  and  the  organs  for  this 
purpose. 

THE   SENSE  OF   SIGHT 

The  eye  is  a  camera,  and  the  light  reflected  from 
the  object  before  it,  is  focused  on  the  rear  wall  of  the 

eye  cavity,  called 
the  retina,  and 
paints  a  small  in- 
verted image  of  the 
scene  before  the 
eye.  The  retina 
(which  means  little 
net)  is  a  network 
of  nerve  endings 
of  the  optic  nerve. 
These  end-organs 
of  the  optic  nerve 
are  curious  curved  rods  and  cones.  The  rods  are  filled 
with  a  substance  called  visual  purple.  This  substance 
undergoes  chemical  decomposition  rapidly  when  struck 
by  light  (but  is  very  rapidly  secreted  again),  and  the  en- 
ergy of  this  chemical  activity  acts  as  a  stimulus  to  the 
end-organs  of  the  optic  nerve,  each  one  of  which  sends 
through  its  own  nerve  fiber  a  distinct  current  of  neural 
energy  to  the  occipital  lobes  of  the  brain.  The  optic 
nerves  from  the  two  eyes  cross,  and  one  branch  goes 
to  each  occipital  lobe,  thus  forming  an  X,  and  hence 
the  name,  the  optic  chiasma,  from  the  Greek  letter 
chi  (X).  But  only  half  of  the  fibers  from  each  eye 
cross  to  the  opposite  side,  so  half  of  the  fibers  of  each 


DIAGRAM  OF  A  SECTION  THROUGH  THE  EYEBALL 


Sensation  and  the  Senses 


13 


eye  go  to  each  occipital  lobe.  When  the  neural  cur- 
rent arrives  at  the  occipital  lobes,  some  sort  of  change 
occurs  —  chemical  or  physical,  or  both  —  in  the  gray 
matter  of  the  cortex  at  this  place.  This  cerebral 


DlAQBAM   SHOWING   THE    EYES   IN  POSITION  IN  THEIR  SOCKETS 

activity  in  the  cortex  of  the  occipital  lobes  causes  a  re- 
action of  the  mind  which  is  known  as  the  sensation  of 
light. 

The  Sensation  of  Light.  —  Light,  like  all  other  sensa- 
tions, has  the  attributes  of  quantity  and  quality.  In 
quantity  (intensity)  it  may  be  dim  or  bright.  Its 
quality  is  known  as  color.  There  are  three  primary 
colors:  red,  blue,  and  yellow.  These  are  primary  be- 
cause they  have  nothing  in  common.  Different  com- 
binations and  proportions  of  these  three  produce  all 
other  colors. 


14 


Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 


It  seems  that  there  are  three  sets  of  nerve  endings 
of  the  optic  nerve.  One  set  is  most  sensitive  to  the 
upper  reaches  of  the  spectrum  (violet),  another  to 
the  middle  (green),  and  the  remaining  to  the  lower  end 
(red).  The  absence  of  one  of  these  sets  of  nerve  endings 
probably  accounts  for  color  blindness.  Some  have 
therefore  held  that  red,  green,  and  violet  are  primary 
colors.  This,  however,  is  an  indefensible  use  of  the 
term  "  primary  colors,"  for  green  and  violet  both 
have  the  blue  element,  and  red  and  violet  have  the  red 
element  in  common. 


The  inner  ear  is  a  labyrinthic  cavity  and  is  partly 
filled  with  a  watery  liquid.  Here  are  the  end-organs 
of  the  auditory  nerves.  The  vibrations  of  physical 

sound  stimulate 
these  end-organs, 
and  the  nerve  re- 
acts by  sending  a 
neural  current  to 
the  auditory  tract 
of  the  cortex  of 
the  brain,  which 
is  situated  a  little 
above  and  behind 
the  ear.  The 

DIAGRAM  SHOWING  STRUCTURE  OF  THE  EAR  neural     event     in 

In  the  lower  figure  the  inner  ear  is  shown  nat-  ,1       QnrJifrki-«r  ft-o^f 

uralsize.    In  the  upper  figure  the  external  ear  is  ory  l 

shown  much  too  small  relatively  to  the  size  of  the  \Q£  ^Jjg  COrtCX  acts 

internal  structures.    The  oblique  shading  repre-  .      .  , 

aents  bone.    A,  nerve.  &S    a    StlHlUlUS    tO 


Sensation  and  the  Senses  15 

the  mind,  and  the  mind  responds  with  the  sensation 
of  sound. 

The  Sensation  of  Sound.  —  Sound  has  intensity 
and  pitch  as  well  as  qualities  that  depend  on  the  com- 
binations of  wave  systems.  Pitch  corresponds  to 
color  in  light.  But  while  there  is  but  one  "  octave  " 
of  light,  the  ear  can  distinguish  some  ten  or  twelve  of 
sound.  So,  while  the  spectrum  (since  the  two  ends 
are  nearly  alike)  may  be  said  to  form  a  circle,  the  oc- 
taves of  sound  might  be  represented  by  a  spiral,  each 
ring  of  the  spiral  representing  an  octave. 

A  tone  differs  from  a  noise  in  that  the  sound  waves 
for  a  tone  are  regular,  while  those  for  a  noise  are  irreg- 
ular. 

A  full,  rich  tone  is  one  composed  of  a  fundamental 
with  many  overtones,  i.e.  with  weaker  thirds,  fifths, 
and  octaves  above.  This  corresponds  somewhat  to 
soft  colors  as  opposed  to  "raw"  colors,  which  means 
pure  colors. 

THE  SENSE  OF  TOUCH 

The  organs  for  this  sense  are  the  nerve  endings  all 
over  the  surface  of  the  body.  The  motor  zone  (which 
extends  along  the  fissure  of  Rolando,  that  is,  about 
from  ear  to  ear  over  the  top  of  the  head),  and  the  re- 
gion bordering  the  motor  zone  is  probably  the  region 
for  both  the  touch  sense  and  the  motor  sense.  While 
the  skin  and  mucous  membrane  everywhere  are  fur- 
nished with  tactile  nerve  endings,  the  finger  tips  are  our 
chief  tactile  knowledge  gatherers.  The  tactile  sensation 
is  that  of  contact,  and  its  chief  qualities  are  expressed 
by  the  adjectives  rough,  smooth,  hard,  and  soft. 


16          Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

THE  MUSCULAR  OR  MOTOR  SENSE 

By  the  pressure  on  the  nerve  ending  when  the  muscles 
contract,  we  measure  the  strain  on  muscles  and  tendons 
and  the  amount  of  muscular  work.  Through  this  sense 
we  know  the  amount  of  muscular  energy  we  put  forth, 
and  perceive  weight  and  space.  The  pure  sensation 
may  perhaps  be  called  one  of  strain,  tension,  or  motion. 

THE  SENSE   OF  SMELL 

The  end-organs  in  the  mucous  membrane  of  the  nose 
are  sensitive  to  certain  gases.  The  cortex  centers  are 
probably  the  median  lower  parts  of  the  temporal  lobes. 
The  sensations  are  known  as  odors. 

THE  SENSE  OF  TASTE 

The  nerve  endings  in  the  papillae  of  the  tongue  are 
sensitive  to  certain  liquids.  The  brain  center  is  prob- 
ably in  the  neighborhood  of  that  for  smell.  Sensa- 
tions are  known  as  flavors. 

THE  TEMPERATURE  SENSE 

It  is  quite  well  established  that  we  have  a  distinct 
set  of  nerve  endings  sensitive  to  temperature.  The 
sensations  are  of  heat  and  of  cold.  The  cortical  center 
is  not  definitely  localized. 

THE  ORGANIC  SENSES 

According  to  the  evolutionary  theory,  all  our  senses 
were  once  organic,  and  fundamentally  so  they  still 
remain.  That  is,  they  report  to  the  brain  the  con- 
dition of  the  respective  organs  in  which  then*  nerve 


Sensation  and  the  Senses  17 

endings  are  located.  But,  as  we  shall  see  under  Per- 
ception, the  mind  has  in  the  case  of  the  special  sense 
come  to  disregard  the  condition  of  the  organ  entirely, 
and  has  fixed  its  attention  on  the  stimulus,  to  gain  in- 
formation about  the  external  world.  Sight  no  longer 
gives  us  any  information  about  the  condition  of  the  ret- 
ina, but  we  project  the  sensation  out  into  space.  Even 
in  smell,  which,  like  the  other  minor  special  senses,  is 
less  separated  from  organic  sensations,  we  refer  odors 
not  to  the  mucous  membrane  of  the  nose,  but  to  the 
"  circumambient "  air. 

Organic  Sensations.  —  Organic  sensations  give  us 
information  about  the  condition  of  the  organs  of  the 
body.  We  feel  pain  whenever  a  nerve  is  injured,  and 
the  quality  of  the  sensation  differs  with  the  nature  of 
the  injury.  A  burn  smarts  differently  from  a  knife 
wound.  Hunger  indicates  an  aching  void  in  the  di- 
gestive organs ;  thirst,  a  lack  of  water  not  only  in  the 
digestive  organs,  but  probably  also  in  the  blood  and 
lymphatic  fluids.  Dizziness  and  seasickness  are  sup- 
posed to  be  caused  by  the  disturbance  of  the  fluids 
of  the  semicircular  canals  in  the  inner  ear;  the  "  close 
air,"  choking,  and  yawning  sensations,  from  lack  of 
oxygen  in  the  lungs ;  and  the  feeling  of  exhaustion,  from 
a  scarcity  of  energy  in  the  system.  The  cortical  center 
for  organic  sensations  is  supposed  to  be  the  region  im- 
mediately posterior  to  the  fissure  of  Rolando. 

WEBER'S  LAW 

It  has  been  found  that  the  increase  necessary  in 
the  stimulus  to  produce  a  just  perceptible  inctease  in 
the  intensity  of  the  sensation  is  a  tolerably  constant 


18          Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

percentage  of  the  previous  stimulus.  This  percentage 
differs  for  each  sense.  Thus,  if  a  weight  of  twenty 
ounces  is  placed  on  the  hand,  the  amount  necessary 
to  make  one  feel  any  increase  is  one  ounce.  But  if 
forty  ounces  are  on  the  hand,  two  ounces  must  be  added 
to  make  the  increase  noticeable. 

The  intellectual  and  feeling  element  of  the  reaction 
complement  each  other  reciprocally.  The  less  pleasure 
or  pain  there  is,  the  more  discrimination.  This  comes 
from  the  fact  that  when  pleasure  or  pain  engrosses 
attention,  there  is  no  attention  left  for  observing  the 
distinguishing  qualities  of  the  reaction.  Thus  the 
sensations,  when  moderate,  of  the  four  major  special 
senses  are  practically  void  of  pleasure  and  pain,  and 
these  sensations  are  the  richest  as  material  for  knowl- 
edge, and  capable  of  very  great  discrimination.  The 
minor  special  senses  are,  rich  in  feeling  but  poor  in  intel- 
lectual discrimination.  Moderate  temperatures  occasion 
no  pain  and  are  readily  distinguished,  but  an  iron  bar 
cold  enough  to  blister  the  skin  cannot  be  distinguished, 
by  the  sensation  caused,  from  one  that  is  red  hot.  It 
should  also  be  noted  that  the  use  of  an  abnormally 
strong  stimulus  will  be  followed  by  a  rapidly  and  con- 
stantly decreasing  sensation. 

This  makes  apparent  the  folly  of  employing  habit- 
ually strong  stimuli.  The  consumer  of  highly  sea- 
soned food  is  actually  capable  of  less  delicate  taste 
discriminations  than  he  who  is  sparing  in  the  use  of 
condiments.  The  teacher  and  preacher  who  shout  habit- 
ually have  themselves  to  blame  that  they  do  not  com- 
mand attention.  Even  corporal  punishment  becomes 
ineffectual  when  inflicted  too  frequently.  To  the 


Sensation  and  the  Senses  10 

normal  vision,  forest  and  field  are  a  restful  green,  and 
only  the  comparatively  rare  flower  is  of  vivid  hue. 
Just  think  if  this  were  reversed;  if  the  prairie  were 
bright  scarlet  with  here  and  there  a  drab  gray  or 
green  flower !  A  speaker  who  tries  to  keep  his  audi- 
ence sobbing  or  laughing  all  the  time  soon  becomes 
tiresome. 

THE  SPATIAL  ELEMENT 

The  spatial  element,  extensiveness,  is  found  in  some 
sensation  if  not  in  all  (William  James  says  it  is  found 
in  all  sensation),  and  this  is  the  source  of  our  perception 
of  space.  The  motor  sense  possesses  this  element  more 
clearly  and  more  convincingly  than  any  other,  and  so 
this  sense  gives  us  the  basis  of  our  perception  of 
space. 

THE  PEDAGOGY  OF  SENSATION 

The  pedagogy  of  sensation  and  the  senses  is  funda- 
mentally a  chapter  in  physiological  hygiene. 

It  is  the  teacher's  duty  to  discover  and  estimate, 
and  if  possible  to  relieve,  any  physical  abnormalities 
of  sense  organs,  such  as  nearsightedness,  deafness,  and 
color  blindness ;  and  to  see  that  the  necessary  physical 
conditions  are  supplied :  fresh  air  without  which  all 
cerebral  activity  flags,  sufficient  light  from  the  right 
direction,  and  the  absence  of  disturbing  noises. 

The  sense  organs  themselves  are  susceptible  of  train- 
ing. In  fact,  education  consists  largely  in  training 
the  senses  to  act  intelligently.  Further  discussion 
of  the  pedagogy  of  the  senses  is  given  in  Part  II. 


20 


Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 


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Sensation  and  the  Senses 


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22  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Exercises 

1.  Give  devices  by  which  abnormalities  such  as  those  men- 
tioned above  may  be  detected  and  measured. 

2.  What  can  a  teacher  ordinarily  do  for  pupils  suffering  with 
defects  of  this  kind? 

3.  Organic  sensations  express  the  harmony  or  disharmony 
of  any  part  of  the  bodily  organism.     Example :  Hunger,  nausea, 
vertigo,  fatigue,  dizziness,  pain,  feeling  of  well-being. 

Give  five  other  examples  of  such  sensations,  and  name  the  part 
of  the  body  affected. 

4.  A  sense  organ  is  a  bodily  organ  so  contrived  as  to  pick  up 
a  stimulus  of  a  certain  class  so  that  it  will  stimulate  nerve 
currents   in   some   afferent   nerve.     Describe   the   chief   sense 
organs. 

5.  Describe  the  whole  process  of  stimulus  and  reaction  from 
the  external  stimulus  to  the  sensation,  for  each  sense. 

MODEL.  —  Waves  of  ether  pass  through  the  cornea,  aqueous 
humor,  lens,  and  vitreous  humor,  and  in  passing  are  focused 
so  as  to  throw  an  inverted  image  on  the  retina.  Here  the  ether 
waves  are  "  picked  up  "  by  the  end-organs  of  the  optic  nerve. 
In  other  words,  the  waves  excite  the  optic  nerve,  and  its  ner- 
vous energy  reacts  and  sends  pulse  after  pulse  of  nerve  waves 
to  the  occipital  lobes  of  the  brain.  When  these  pulses  reach  the 
brain,  in  some  way  the  mind  feels  stimulated,  and  it  responds 
by  the  peculiar  sensation  we  know  as  light. 

6.  Which  are  the  primary  colors?     Note  that  we  seek  for 
the  psychologically  primary  colors,  not  for  the  physiologically 
primary. 

7.  What  is  the  difference  between  noise  and  pure  tone? 

8.  How  can  you  tell  that  what  your  neighbor  calls  red  is 
not  perhaps  what  you  call  blue? 

9.  Suppose  a  person  cannot    distinguish    red    and  green, 
how   does  a  field  of  strawberries   appear  to  him  all  red,  all 
green,  or  neither? 

10.  Suppose  the  optic  nerve  were  by  an  operation  made  to 
discharge  its  currents  into  the  hearing  center  of  the  brain,  what 
sensations  would  a  glance  at  the  moon  give  ? 


Sensation  and  the  Senses  23 

11.  Give  non-psychological  illustrations  of  the  relation  of 
stimulus  and  sensation  and  of  cause  and  effect.     The  following 
are  suggestions :  — 

What  is  the  logical  relation  between  the  jumping  jack's 
motion  and  motion  of  strings?  between  the  movement  of  a 
watch  and  the  force  employed  in  winding  it?  between  the  dig- 
ging of  a  hole  in  a  dam  and  the  consequent  devastating  flood 
which  occurs  when  the  waters  by  means  of  the  hole  wear  out  the 
dam  and  escape. 

12.  Give  examples  of  sensations  and  their  stimuli. 

MODEL.  —  A  nerve  is  severed.  This  starts  a  violent  current 
in  the  remaining  portion  of  the  nerve.  This  travels  by  way 
of  the  spinal  cord  up  to  the  cerebrum,  and  sets  up  some  kind  of 
molecular  disturbance  there.  This  disturbance  acts  as  a  stimu- 
lus to  the  mind  and  it  reacts,  or  responds,  by  the  sensation  of 
pain. 


CHAPTER  III 
PERCEPTION 

IT  seems  strange  that  concerning  the  very  activity 
that  lies  closest  to  us,  we  know  least.  The  answer  to 
the  question,  How  do  we  think?  how  do  we  learn? 
is,  as  George  Eliot  remarks  in  "  The  Mill  on  the  Floss," 
almost  invariably  a  metaphor.  The  mind  is  thought 
of  as  a  field  to  be  cultivated ;  as  a  storehouse  to  be  filled 
with  useful  knowledge;  as  muscles  and  sinews  to  be 
strengthened  by  mental  exercise,  the  "  splendid  mental 
gymnastics  of  the  classics,"  for  example;  and  finally, 
often  as  a  stomach  which  is  to  digest  and  assimilate 
knowledge. 

All  of  which  is  very  well ;  in  fact,  inevitable.  Things 
that  are  not  seen  must  be  spoken  of  in  figures  of  things 
that  are  seen.  But  what  is  not  well,  is  that  we  take 
for  granted  that  all  that  may  be  said  of  the  figure  is 
true  of  the  thing  shadowed  forth  by  the  figure.  For 
it  is  not  true  that  the  mind  acts  or  is  acted  upon  in 
all  respects  like  a  field,  a  storehouse,  a  muscular  system, 
or  a  stomach. 

In  studying  perception,  which  is  the  basis  of  all  ac- 
quirement of  knowledge,  we  must  look  at  the  activity 
itself  stripped  of  all  metaphor.  We  can  best  obtain 
a  clear  idea  of  what  perception  is  by  studying  in  detail 

a  concrete  example. 

24 


Perception  25 

AN  ANALYSIS  OF  PERCEPTION 

Miss  Utterly  beholds  on  Easter  morning  her  "  dear- 
est friend's  "  new  bonnet.  So  does  a  baby  of  six  months. 
Both  have,  in  all  probability,  very  similar  sensations, 
for  the  sense  organs  of  both  are  affected  in  very  much 
the  same  way.  But  the  baby  and  Miss  Utterly  have 
very  different  perceptions.  The  baby  sees  only  a 
blooming  confusion,  which,  if  there  is  not  yellow  in  it, 
is  not  likely  to  interest  him  much.  To  Miss  Utterly, 
the  hat  is  a  very  definite  thing.  At  a  glance  she  takes 
in  color,  texture,  flowers,  lace,  plumes,  and  the  various 
grades  and  qualities  of  each. 

Our  ordinary  conception  is  that  percepts  walk  into 
our  field  of  consciousness  through  our  eyes,  full-fledged. 
We  think  of  the  percept  as  something  given  to  the 
mind  from  the  outside.  We  think  of  the  mind  as 
passive  in  perception,  as  simply  receiving  impressions. 
This  view  is  entirely  erroneous.  The  mind  is  active 
in  perception.  We  make  our  own  percepts.  Let  us 
watch  the  process  of  making  a  percept. 

As  the  image  of  the  hat  falls  on  Miss  Utterly's  ret- 
ina, she  has  a  sensation  of  colors.  These  sensations, 
however,  give  her  no  image.  They  are  simply  the 
material  out  of  which  images  may  be  made.  But 
Miss  Utterly  has  seen  spring  hats  before.  The  memo- 
ries of  these  hats  are  not  dead,  they  simply  slumber. 
A  new  sensation  awakens  in  the  mind  memories  of 
similar  objects.  These  old  memories  coalesce  with 
the  new  sensation,  and  the  result  is  a  new  percept. 

Oh,  what  a  commotion  there  is  among  all  the  old 
millinery  memories  in  Miss  Utterly's  mind!  There 


26  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

come  trooping  forward  all  recent  and  long-forgotten 
hats  and  bonnets,  plumes,  flowers,  leaves,  grasses, 
ribbons,  laces,  bows,  plaited  straw,  and  memories  of 
all  other  things  more  or  less  like  these. 

They  all  throng  upward  to  the  "  threshold  of  con- 
sciousness," but  few  if  any  pass  this  threshold  as  in- 
dividuals. Before  they  pass  into  full  consciousness, 
they  melt  together  with  the  sensation  from  the  new 
bonnet,  and  Miss  Utterly  has  a  clear,  crisp,  vivid, 
and  detailed  percept  of  the  new  bonnet  and  exclaims, 
"  Oh,  what  a  dear !  " 

Under  ordinary  circumstances,  perception  is  more 
memory  than  it  is  sensation.  Nine  tenths  of  what  we 
think  we  see,  hear,  and  otherwise  perceive  now,  we  do 
not  sense  now  at  all;  we  simply  recollect  it  from  our 
past  experience.  As  a  rule,  the  present  sensation  is 
simply  a  hint  which  calls  up  from  the  nether  depths  of 
our  being  that  which  we  perceive. 

There  are  then  two  factors  in  every  perception: 
the  present  sensation  and  the  element  from  past  experi- 
ence. The  mind  takes  up  the  material  furnished  it 
by  the  various  sense  organs,  arranges  it,  and  combines 
it  with  the  products  of  previous  sensory  experience 
to  form  what  we  call  a  percept. 

We  must  guard  against  thinking  that  sensations  are 
taken  in  their  raw,  natural  state  and  just  united  with 
the  image  from  past  experience.  Far  from  it.  The 
original  reaction  of  the  mind  which  we  call  sensation 
is  no  more  like  the  percept  into  which  it  is  worked  up, 
than  a  pile  of  bricks  and  a  carload  of  lime  are  like  a 
brick  house.  Often  the  relation  and  resemblance  is 
even  more  tenuous.  The  sensations  are  mere  direc- 


Perception  27 

tions  and  limits  to  the  mind  and  show  how  it  is  to  build 
its  percepts.  Do  not  imagine  that  anything  from  the 
"  external  world  "  creeps  into  the  mind  in  sensation. 
The  sensation  is  a  purely  mental  affair,  and  contains 
no  foreign  element.  Likewise  the  percept  is  built 
purely  from  home-grown  timbers.  But  how,  then,  do 
we  gain  any  knowledge  of  that  which  is  outside  of  our 
organism  ?  Because  the  nature  of  the  reaction,  though 
purely  mental  and  our  own,  differs  with  the  nature  of 
the  stimulus.  And  the  percept,  though  built  by  the 
mind  entirely,  according  to  its  own  laws,  will  more  or 
less  faithfully  reflect  the  universe,  since  the  mind  is  an 
expression  of  the  universe,  or,  to  use  Professor  James's 
expression,  since,  after  all,  the  mind  and  the  universe 
developed  together,  and  hence  are  something  of  a  fit. 

THE   ELEMENT   FROM    PAST    EXPERIENCE,  APPERCEPTION 

The  process  of  combining  the  new  sensation  with 
past  experience  is  often  called  apperception.  It  is  this 
apperceptive  process  which  gives  form  and  meaning 
to  the  unshaped  material  received  by  the  senses.  This 
store  of  past  experiences  which  comes  out  to  meet  and 
absorb,  as  it  were,  the  new  experience  has  been  called 
by  Herbart  the  "  apperceiving  mass." 

The  importance  of  the  part  played  by  past  experi- 
ence in  the  formation  of  a  percept  varies  according  to 
the  person's  age  and  consequent  experience. 

In  the  case  of  a  grown  person  it  often  forms  the  greater 
part  of  the  percept.  I  see  a  person  coming  towards 
me  a  long  distance  away.  As  he  comes  nearer,  my 
percept  of  him  becomes  larger  and  clearer,  and  suddenly 
I  recognize  him  as  my  friend  Mr.  Brown.  The  instant 


28          Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

I  recognize  him,  my  percept  undergoes  a  wonderful 
change.  At  once  it  becomes  much  more  definite  and 
clear  and  its  "  Brownishness "  fairly  sticks  out  all 
over  it.  What  has  happened?  Simply  this,  the  in- 
stant I  decided  it  was  Mr.  Brown,  out  came  the  mental 
pictures  I  had  of  him,  and  these  all  coalesced  with  the 
sensations,  and  made  a  very  much  improved  percept. 
This  conclusion  is  very  much  strengthened  by  the 
fact  that  if  I  was  mistaken  in  my  surmise  that  this 
person  was  Mr.  Brown,  the  instant  I  discover  this,  all 
"  Brownishness  "  drops  out  of  the  percept,  and  I  am 
surprised  that  I  ever  could  have  mistaken  this  person 
for  Mr.  Brown. 

The  figure  here  used  of  two  images,  one  the  image 
from  sensations,  and  one  an  image  from  past  experi- 
ence, coalescing  into  one,  represents  the  main  facts 
so  far  brought  out  fairly  well.  But  there  is  a  very 
important  side  of  this  affair  which  is  not  brought  out 
at  all.  To  appreciate  this,  let  us  take  another  example : 

In  the  days  of  my  youth  in  the  woods  of  eastern 
Minnesota  I  used  to  hunt  with  an  old  blunderbuss  of 
an  army  musket.  Entirely  innocent  of  the  hunter's 
ethical  code  which  forbids  his  shooting  a  bird  not  on 
the  wing,  I  would  steal  down  to  the  shore  of  the  lake, 
and  when  I  saw  the  head  of  a  swimming  duck,  blaze 
away  with  a  charge  of  buckshot.  Once  I  saw  the  head 
and  neck  of  a  splendid  fellow  in  the  reeds,  and  I  stole 
softly  nearer  until  I  could  see  the  glitter  of  his  eyes 
and  the  metallic  sheen  of  feathers  on  the  back  of  the 
neck.  I  shot,  and  lo!  nothing  happened!  The  duck 
did  not  fly,  but  underwent  a  strange  transformation. 
There  was  nothing  there  but  a  crooked  stick. 


Perception  29 

I  had  really  fired  at  the  ghost  of  a  duck  brought  up 
from  the  cold  storage  of  my  memory.  Here  the  active 
formulating  element  came  from  my  past  experience, 
and  the  passive  material  from  the  present  crooked- 
stick  sensations.  The  active  element,  the  "  apper- 
ceiving  mass,"  becomes  the  tool,  the  sensation  becomes 
the  raw  material,  or  we  may  say  the  "  apperceiving 
mass  "  furnishes  the  matrix,  the  casting  form,  and  the 
sensation  the  molten  metal  that  is  run  into  the  form. 

A  fisherman's  tale  which  has  unnumbered  varia- 
tions runs  as  follows:  A  fisher  had  a  minnow  on  the 
hook,  which  was  swallowed  by  a  perch,  but  before  he 
could  get  the  perch  out  of  the  water,  it  acted  as  bait 
and  was  swallowed  by  a  bass,  and  just  as  he  had  the 
bass  at  the  surface,  the  bass  was  swallowed  by  a  fifty- 
pound  muscallonge.  Each  fish  except  the  last  had 
been  caught  on  a  bait,  and  then  in  turn  became  the 
bait  of  a  larger  fish.  Now  this  story  of  the  fisherman 
may  be  doubted,  but  it  is  in  just  this  way  that  knowl- 
edge, when  acquired,  becomes  a  bait  by  means  of  which 
we  acquire  more  knowledge.  Every  idea,  as  soon  as 
fashioned,  becomes  a  tool  for  fashioning  more  ideas.  - 

THE  SENSATIONS  AS  FACTORS  IN  PERCEPTION 

Tactile  and  Motor  Perception.  —  Sensations  to  form 
percepts  must  be  arranged  into  combinations  having 
space  relations.  Our  primary  and  fundamental  per- 
ception of  space  comes  to  us  in  the  motor  sense.  With 
this  the  tactile  sense  is  very  intimately  united. 

In  moving  our  hands  and  feet,  we  have  sensations 
of  strain,  motion,  of  spending  energy.  This  the  mind 
interprets  as  space.  Space,  then,  is  psychologically 


30  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

that  in  which  one  can  move,  and  the  amount  of  energy 
spent  in  moving  is  the  measure  of  the  space  moved  in. 

Form,  or  extension,  of  an  object  is  thus  the  space  re- 
lations of  that  object's  parts  to  one  another.  This  is 
primarily  perceived  by  tactile  and  motor  perception. 

Weight  is  perceived  by  the  motor  sense,  by  so  in- 
terpreting the  sensation  of  tension  or  pressure.  It  is 
called  in  this  connection  the  baric  sense  by  Dr.  Mon- 
tessori  and  others. 

We  perceive  our  own  motor  effort  by  so  interpreting 
the  strain  on  the  muscles.  For  muscular  efforts  in- 
volving practically  the  whole  system,  as  in  pushing 
or  pulling,  we  estimate  the  effort  from  the  strain  on 
the  diaphragm  only.  Hence,  one  can  easily  get  the 
"  feeling  "  (percept)  of  pulling  or  pushing  by  taking 
the  proper  bodily  attitude  and  contracting  the  dia- 
phragm. 

Strictly  speaking,  the  only  tactile  percepts  are  per- 
cepts of  surface  conditions,  such  as  rough,  smooth, 
sticky,  hard,  soft,  and  plastic,  and  even  in  these  there 
is  a  motor  element. 

The  tactile  and  motor  senses  may  be  called  our 
primary  senses,  as  they  furnish  the  fundamental  ele- 
ments of  our  perceptual  world.  They  give  life,  im- 
mediateness,  and  the  sense  of  reality  to  our  percepts. 
When  Thomas  was  in  doubt  as  to  the  reality  of  his 
Lord's  resurrection,  he  said  he  could  not  believe  until 
he  had  touched  the  wounds  of  the  Lord  with  his  own 
hands.  And  John  puts  as  a  climax  above  what  they  had 
heard  and  seen,  "which  —  our  hands  have  handled." 

Visual  Perception.  —  Since  the  retinal  image  has 
two  dimensions,  doubtless  purely  visual  sensations 


Perception  31 

have  elements  of  extension;  but  these  are  very  weak 
and  uncertain  until  reenforced.  Let  us  experiment. 

Estimate  the  length  of  the  blackboard.  Twelve 
feet.  Very  well.  Now,  you  will  notice  that  in  es- 
timating distance  right  and  left  and  up  and  down, 
your  eyes  move  up  and  down  or  right  and  left  as  the 
case  may  be,  over  the  distance  to  be  measured.  This 
gives  you  a  muscular  sensation  from  the  strain  on  the 
muscles  that  move  the  eye,  and  this  sensation  is  used 
as  a  yardstick  to  measure  the  distance. 

But  for  the  "  third  dimension  "  (distance  away  from 
the  eye)  there  is  no  direct  element  in  visual  sensations. 
The  third  dimension  must  be  interpreted  into  visual 
perception  from  various  indirect  indications  in  visual 
sensations  and  from  motor  sensations.  Let  us  examine 
a  case. 

I  see  a  horse  and  carriage  the  other  side  of  the  river. 
I  see  them  half  a  mile  away,  and  I  see  that  there  is  a 
large  black  horse  and  a  four-wheeled  carriage.  Now 
the  physical  stimulus  consists  of  two  flat  images  on  the 
retina  of  my  eyes.  Why  do  I  interpret  these  two  some- 
what different  "  flat  "  sensations  as  a  solid  percept 
half  a  mile  away  in  the  third  dimension?  Well,  I 
get  the  third  dimension  by  interpreting  the  image  in 
terms  of  a  third  dimension  horse  and  carriage  which 
I  have  examined  previously  at  close  range.  Then  I 
see  the  river  between  me  and  these  objects,  and  its 
width  fills  a  certain  visual  angle  which  I  have  learned 
to  know  is  half  a  mile. 

I  look  at  the  class  before  me.  I  have  a  very  definite 
perspective  of  the  class,  and  see  plainly  that  Smith 
sits  about  three  feet  behind  Jones.  If,  however,  I 


32  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

cover  one  eye,  my  perspective  becomes  very  much 
poorer.  Why?  When  I  look  with  both  eyes  I  must 
make  the  axes  of  both  eyes  meet  on  the  object  I  am 
looking  at.  I  must  pull  the  axes  of  the  eyes  much  far- 
ther from  the  parallel,  and  much  closer  together  when 
viewing  an  object  near  me  than  one  far  away.  This 
causes  a  strain  on  the  muscles  of  the  eyes  located  be- 
tween the  eyes  and  the  nose.  This  strain  occasions 
a  muscular  (or  motor)  sensation,  and  the  stronger  this 
sensation  is,  the  nearer  I  judge  and  the  nearer  I  see 
the  object.  This  sensation  is  so  slight,  that  usually  it  is 
only  subconscious  in  its  original  form,  but  it  is  of  great 
use  in  helping  us  to  discover  the  "  third  dimension." 

Besides  the  means  of  getting  the  third  dimension  by 
binocular  vision  and  by  the  apparent  and  real  size, 
we  get  in  vision  our  perception  of  third  dimension  from 
the  muscular  sensation  of  the  strain  of  the  ciliary  muscle 
of  the  lens  in  focusing,  from  the  indefiniteness  or  dim- 
ness of  distant  objects,  and  from  the  number  and  posi- 
tions of  intervening  objects.  Notice  how  very  unlike 
distance  the  sensory  data  for  distance  are. 

All  this  perception  of  extension  (space)  through  the 
sense  of  sight  is,  however,  secondary.  But  by  fitting 
our  visual  sensations  into  the  space  scheme  of  the  motor 
sense,  we  get  a  visual  world  clear,  distinct,  and  external 
to  the  eye.  The  space  which  we  see  is  literally  hand-m&de. 

Auditory  Perception.  —  As  the  motor  sense,  touch, 
and  sight  may  be  called  the  space  senses  or  the  senses 
of  extension,  so  the  motor  sense  and  hearing  may  be 
called  the  time  senses  or  the  senses  of  succession.  Dura- 
tion, succession,  rhythm,  periodicity,  are  attributes  of 
motion,  hence  here  too  the  primary  time  sense  is  the 


Perception  33 

motor  sense.  But  just  as  we  usually  translate  into 
visual  terms  the  space  we  first  perceived  by  the  motor 
sense,  so  we  translate  motor  time  into  auditory  time. 
Thus,  while  the  visual  world  is  a  world  of  outside-of- 
one-anotherness,  the  auditory  world  is  a  world  of  after- 
one-anotherness. 

Direction  and  distance  are  the  only  space  relations 
of  hearing,  and  these  are  very  imperfectly  perceived. 
Direction  is  determined  by  the  relative  loudness  of 
the  sound  in  the  two  ears.  Hence  persons  having 
hearing  in  only  one  ear  cannot  tell  the  direction  of 
sound.  Distance  is  arrived  at  only  secondarily  by  so 
interpreting  the  intensity  and  clearness  of  the  sensation. 

Olfactory  and  Gustatory  Perception.  —  Our  olfac- 
tory and  gustatory  senses  give  us  practically  no  space 
relations.  Odors  are  often  mistaken  for  flavors.  More 
than  half  of  the  joy  of  coffee  is  its  odor.  What  we 
think  its  taste  is  mostly  the  aroma  entering  the  nose 
through  the  "  back  door."  Hence,  when  the  nose  is 
closed  by  a  cold,  coffee  becomes  flat  and  insipid.  The 
"  taste  "  of  pepper  is  rather  a  pain  from  inflamed  nerves 
than  true  flavor. 

Perception  by  the  Temperature  Sense.  —  Tempera- 
ture, naturally,  is  the  primary  perception  by  this  sense. 
There  are  some  interesting  secondary  perceptions. 
As  a  wet  surface  by  evaporation  usually  is  cooler  than 
its  surroundings,  we  usually  perceive  dampness  or 
wetness  in  fabrics  and  of  objects  by  this  sense.  Metals 
are  good  conductors  of  heat,  and  hence  when  tempera- 
ture is  below  blood  heat  metals  feel  cooler  than  poorer 
heat  conductors.  Thus  we  often  perceive  metals  by 
the  temperature  sense. 


34  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Organic  Perception. — The  organic  sensations  are  per- 
ceived usually  as  pain  or  well-being  in  the  organs  affected. 
Sometimes,  though,  the  feeling  is  not  perceived  at  the 
true  place  of  stimulus.  Thus  deranged  digestion  is  often 
felt  as  headache,  and  a  jar  of  the  "  funny  bone  "  at  the 
elbow  is  perceived  as  a  whirring  pain  in  the  little  finger. 

Thus,  then,  are  sensations  synthesized  and  inter- 
preted to  form  percepts. 

THE  TRAINING   OF  PERCEPTION 

The  time  for  training  perception  is  childhood. 
Perception  should  be  trained  to  be  accurate,  swift, 
and  acute.  There  is  need  of  introducing  special  exer- 
cises to  train  the  senses,  but  these  exercises  should  not 
be  detached  or  artificial,  and  should  connect  naturally 
with  the  use  of  the  senses  in  daily  tasks. 

There  is  affecting  our  senses  what  may  be  called  the 
disease  of  civilization.  Civilized  man  does  not  "  have 
to  "  use  his  senses.  Road  overseers  see  that  the  road 
is  safe ;  we  expect  plain  and  patent  warning  wherever 
there  is  any  danger ;  we  expect  the  vendor  to  make  it 
impossible  for  us  to  fail  to  notice  his  wares ;  in  school, 
our  portion  of  science  and  arts  comes  to  us  cut  up  into 
edible  lengths,  and  labeled  with  name  and  directions ; 
our  work  is  almost  always  a  routine,  in  which  we  con- 
tinually go  in  a  beaten  path;  and  guidebooks,  sign- 
boards, guards,  advertisements,  newspapers,  and  teach- 
ers make  observation  unnecessary.  As  a  result 
civilized  man  is  blind  and  deaf  and  insensible  to  nine 
tenths  of  his  environment. 

Education  ought  to  do  something  to  remedy  this 
defect  in  modern  life.  First,  if  we  would  remedy  this 


Perception  35 

defect,  it  is  imperative  that  we  have  a  direct,  cold- 
blooded determination  to  know  this  universe  at  first 
hand.  To  this  end,  in  the  hands  of  a  wise  teacher, 
almost  every  subject  may  contribute ;  but  the  subjects 
particularly  rich  in  opportunities  of  this  kind  are  the 
natural  sciences  and  manual  training. 

A  detailed  discussion  of  the  training  of  the  senses 
and  the  perceptive  faculties  will  be  found  in  Part  II. 

Exercises 

1.  In  what  respects  are  the  following  figures  inapplicable? 

Studying  mathematics  is  mental  gymnastics. 
He  had  not  digested  the  book  thoroughly. 
He  has  a  well-cultivated  mind. 

2.  A  sailor  tried  to  give  a  friend  an  idea  of  Liverpool,  and 
the  main  thing  he  could  say  was  that  in  Liverpool  he  had  had 
the  best  ale  and  the  poorest  lodging  in  his  life.     What  was  the 
matter  with  his  apperceiving  mass  ? 

3.  When  a  child  for  the  first  time  in  his  life  looks  at  letters, 
how  does  the  percept  he  gets  differ  from  that  of  his  teacher? 

4.  Why,  in  the  case  above,  do- the  teacher's  and  the  pupil's 
percepts  differ? 

5.  How  do  we  get  the  direction  from  which  a  sound  comes  by 
auditory  perception? 

6.  We  locate  flavors  in  the  mouth,  but  we  do  not  locate 
sight  percepts  in  the  eye,  but  in  space  outside  the  body.     Where 
do  we  locate  odors  ? 

7.  A  violinist  in  a  diminuendo  passage  moves  the  bow  a 
couple  of  times  over  the  strings  without  touching  them.     Still 
the  audience  hears  a  faint  sound.     Why? 

8.  How  do  we  perceive  distance  up  and  down  and  right  and 
left  by  visual  perception? 

9.  Why  can  you  read  English  in  a  poorer  light  than  any 
other  language? 

10.   Explain  some  illusion  in  your  personal  experience. 


CHAPTER  IV 
IMAGINATION 

EVEN  without  the  nerve  stimulus  and  the  sensa- 
tion, we  are  still  able  to  construct  images  from  our  past 
experiences.  This  power  is  imagination. 

IMAGINATION  AND  PERCEPTION 

Imagination  depends  on  perception  for  its  material. 
Every  element  in  imagination  must  first  have  been 
found  in  perception.  A  color-blind  person  blind  to 
red  cannot  imagine  red.  A  person  deaf  from  birth 
cannot  imagine  sound. 

The  chief  difference  between  imagination  and  per- 
ception lies  in  the  fact  that  in  perception  the  stimulus 
is  present  to  the  senses,  while  in  imagination  there  is 
no  external  stimulus,  and  it  is  therefore  as  a  rule  less 
vivid.  However,  the  two  processes  are  sometimes  so 
nearly  equal  in  vividness,  that  we  mistake  imagination 
for  actual  sensory  experience.  Especially  is  this  true 
of  our  dreams,  which,  though  wholly  the  creation  of 
imagination,  seem  to  be  reality. 

Perception  is  also  dependent  on  imagination.  When 
we  read  in  a  familiar  language,  we  never  take  the  trouble 
to  see  all  the  letters ;  we  just  catch  a  few  characteris- 
tic points  in  the  shape  of  a  word,  and  then  supply  the 
rest  by  imagination  from  memory. 

36 


Imagination  37 

KINDS  OF  IMAGINATION 

Sense  Classes  of  Imagination.  —  Thus  there  are 
as  many  kinds  of  imagination  as  there  are  kinds  of 
perception,  and  of  the  same  types,  as  visual  imagina- 
tion, auditory  imagination,  etc. 

For  example,  if  a  certain  song  is  mentioned,  one  may 
have  a  mental  picture  of  the  printed  score,  or  one  may 
imagine  hearing  some  one  sing  it.  Again,  one  may  feel 
certain  vibrations  in  the  throat  like  those  felt  in  singing, 
or  one  may  feel  the  touch  of  the  piano  keys  as  one  thinks 
of  playing  the  song. 

Reproductive  and  Productive.  —  Some  psychologists 
classify  imagination  as  reproductive  or  productive. 
In  the  first  form  of  imagination,  the  mind  merely  rep- 
resents an  image  exactly  as  it  formerly  appeared  in 
consciousness.  In  the  second,  the  mind  creates  a  new 
image  by  combining  elements  from  many  images. 

To  illustrate,  if  I  close  my  eyes  and  see  the  image  of 
the  house  I  used  to  live  in,  I  am  using  reproductive 
imagination.  But  if  I  picture  to  myself  the  house  I 
should  like  to  build,  combining  the  attractive  features 
of  the  various  houses  I  have  seen,  I  am  employing  pro- 
ductive imagination. 

PRACTICAL  VALUE  OF  IMAGINATION 

Imagination  is  needful  in  every  mental  effort.  Many 
people  think  that  imagination  is  only  for  the  actor, 
the  artist,  and  the  poet  with  his  "  eye  in  a  fine  frenzy 
rolling,"  but  this  is  wrong.  The  scientist,  mathema- 
tician, engineer,  and  soldier  are  just  as  necessarily  and 
just  as  fully  men  of  imagination.  A  part  of  Napo- 


38  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Icon's  genius  consisted  in  his  ability  to  imagine  so  per- 
fectly and  so  vividly  the  complex  movements  of  troops 
from  one  place  to  another  in  battle.  In  solving  "  men- 
tally "  a  problem  like  this :  If  f  of  a  pound  of  tea  costs 
f  of  a  dollar,  what  will  one  pound  cost  ?  we  must  imag- 
ine f,  f,  pound,  and  dollar,  and  keep  them  without 
confounding  the  images.  Imagination  is  not  neces- 
sarily something  wild,  fanciful,  and  irresponsible.  It 
may  be  as  sober,  grim,  and  exact  as  the  iron  law  of 
necessity. 

THE  TRAINING  OF  THE  IMAGINATION 

Training  for  Accuracy.  —  Imagination  should  be 
trained  to  be  (a)  exact,  clear,  and  definite,  and  (fe) 
rich,  colored,  varied,  and  full  of  detail.  Mathematics 
is  perhaps  the  best  discipline  for  clearness,  exactness, 
and  definiteness,  as  in  mathematics  we  shall  be  left 
floundering  helplessly  unless  we  keep  our  symbols  apart 
and  definite,  and  unless  our  thought  images  are  clear. 
This  involves  also  the  faculty  of  being  able  to  handle  a 
great  number  of  images  at  once  without  confusing  or 
losing  them.  Chess,  cards,  and  many  other  games  are 
an  excellent  drill  for  this  purpose,  for  there  also  suc- 
cess depends  on  not  confusing  images.  Sloyd  also 
contributes  to  this  discipline,  for  in  sloyd  the  article 
produced  will  inevitably  reveal  any  inexactness  in  the 
image  in  the  mind  of  the  workman.  The  same  is  true 
of  drawing.  These  forms  of  discipline  also  enrich 
the  imagination  by  adding  more  detail. 

Since  exactness  and  clearness  are  the  great  desidera- 
tum in  these  studies,  the  teacher  must  insist  upon  hav- 
ing them.  An  exact  mathematical  language,  both 


Imagination  39 

oral  and  written  (in  statements) ,  should  be  required  at 
all  times.  Insist  on  perfect  work  in  handicraft,  and 
thus  secure  exact  and  clear  imagination. 

Training  for  Enrichment.  —  For  enriching  the  im- 
agination with  color,  detail,  life,  and  variety  the  most 
important  school  subjects  are  literature  and  history. 
It  is  a  pity,  though,  that  the  school  and  textbook  way 
of  treating  these  subjects  is  so  "  outliny."  In  fact, 
teachers  and  text  often  seem  to  avoid  the  human, 
broad,  interesting  side  of  these  subjects  as  not  digni- 
fied or  "  scientific  "  enough  for  the  schoolroom ;  and 
present  everything  in  a  solemn  drab  dullness.  Re- 
member that  detail,  color,  action,  and  human  interest 
give  life  to  learning  and  enrich  the  imagination. 

We  are  economical  in  the  expenditure  of  mental  en- 
ergy ;  in  other  words,  we  are  all  mentally  lazy.  We 
were  born  that  way.  As  a  result,  whenever  we  can, 
we  are  prone  to  use  the  merest  skeleton  of  an  image 
that  will  serve  the  purpose.  In  reading  of  Robinson 
Crusoe's  landing  on  the  desert  island,  we  "  see  "  in 
our  imagination  the  mere  outline  of  a  man  in  water. 
We  ought  to  see  the  wide  sandy  beach,  with  the  vast 
green  billows  curling  over  and  breaking  into  white 
foam;  notice  the  color  and  texture  of  the  clothing  of 
Crusoe ;  see  the  shrubbery  and  trees  on  the  shore  and 
notice  the  tall  gaunt  trunks  of  the  palms,  with  their 
giant  brush  of  dark  green  foliage.  We  ought  to  hear 
the  soughing  and  roar  of  the  wind  and  the  pounding 
and  rolling  of  the  waves  on  the  beach.  We  ought  to 
get  the  motor  "  feel  "  in  our  limbs  of  the  man  strug- 
gling with  the  breakers,  and  the  annihilating  sensa- 
tion of  the  salt  billows  engulfing  him.  Read  with 


40  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

such  imagination,  we  have  an  exciting  tale  indeed,  and 
we  have  all  the  liberal  education  of  a  shipwreck  with- 
out wetting  our  feet. 

THE  ABUSE  OF  THE  IMAGINATION 

Daydreaming  as  Recreation.  —  How  far  is  it  allow- 
able to  use  one's  imagination  just  for  pleasure?  Of 
course,  it  goes  without  saying  that  all  imagination  on 
morbid,  ethically  forbidden,  or  immoral  topics  is 
harmful.  Morally  and  even  physically,  the  essence 
of  a  deed  is  its  idea,  and  so  he  who  imagines  an  action 
has  "  committed  it  in  his  heart." 

But  what  of  perfectly  innocent  but  perfectly  useless 
building  of  air  castles,  reading  of  novels  and  poetry? 
I  think  a  certain  homeopathic  amount  of  such  reading 
may  be  defended  as  recreation.  This  would  apply 
especially  to  persons  employed  in  dry,  routine  occupa- 
tions, as,  for  example,  bookkeepers,  or  those  whose 
labor  is  manual.  They  may  well  relieve  the  monotony 
of  their  existence  by  building  castles  in  Spain,  or  read- 
ing light  literature  for  the  mere  pleasure  of  using  an 
unrestrained  imagination.  Why  should  not  the  hard- 
working kitchen  maid  forget  for  a  brief  hour  the 
drudgery  of  her  life  and  live  the  life  of  a  countess 
with  the  heroine  of  the  society  novel?  Would  it  not 
be  cruelty  to  snatch  the  sentimental  story  from  her 
hands,  and  put  in  them  instead  an  analytical  tale  by 
Henry  James,  and  tell  her  to  read  it  carefully  and  im- 
prove her  mind  ? 

For  the  student  and  teacher,  and  others  in  pursuits 
full  of  intellectual  interest,  there  is  less  occasion  for 
the  mere  sweetness  of  imagination;  but  even  here  I 


Imagination  41 

think  we  can  scarcely  with  safety  make  the  rule,  often 
insisted  on  by  the  mentors  of  the  young,  that  they 
must  never  "  skim  over  "  a  book,  but  that  the  only 
proper  way  to  read  a  book  is  to  study  it  thoroughly. 
I  think  it  is  safe  to  say  that  a  novel  should  not  always 
be  as  thoroughly  digested  as  a  scientific  treatise  and 
that  daydreaming  is  not  always  harmful. 

But  let  it  be  understood  that  dissipation  of  the 
imagination  is  frightfully  common ;  and  that  the  temp- 
tation thus  to  dissipate  is  very  great,  since  the  wine  of 
imagination  is  always  on  tap.  Recreation  should 
occupy  only  a  small  portion  of  our  time.  Few  prac- 
tices are  more  destructive  than  professional  pleasure 
hunting.  And  the  person  who  spends  a  portion  of  his 
working  time  in  ever  so  innocent  daydreaming  or  in 
reading  light  literature  merely  for  pleasure,  is  as  truly 
a  voluptuary  as  he  who  debauches  in  grosser  ways. 
He  does  not  travel  towards  perdition  as  fast  as  the 
drunkard,  but  he  is  headed  that  way. 

Newspaper  Reading.  —  Here  may  be  the  place  to 
say  a  word  about  newspaper  reading.  Probably  no 
industrial  waste  in  this  country  is  greater  than  the  time 
spent  in  useless  newspaper  reading.  A  good  deal  of 
the  news  is  not  fit  to  read;  we  should  be  better  off 
without  knowing  it.  Much  of  the  contents  of  a  daily 
is  perfectly  valueless  to  the  average  man,  and  most 
of  what  is  worth  while  is  much  diluted.  Every  person 
who  values  his  time  —  and  every  one  should  value  his 
time  —  should  learn  the  art  of  skimming  the  cream  off 
a  daily  in  a  few  minutes.  One  great  trouble  is  that  the 
daily  in  its  struggle  to  "  scoop  "  tries  to  be  fifteen 
minutes  ahead  of  truth,  and  hence  contains  much  that 


42  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

is  untrue.  The  busy  man  will  do  well  to  get  his  serious 
history  of  current  events  from  a  weekly  or  monthly 
periodical. 

Need  of  Reading  more  Serious  Literature.  —  We 
read  too  much  fiction.  There  is  no  better  literature 
than  the  best  fiction ;  but  there  can  be  too ,  much  of  a 
good  thing,  and  there  is  too  much  of  the  good  thing 
called  fiction.  Let  us  enrich  our  imagination  with  fic- 
tion, but  not  exclusively  with  fiction,  as  the  records  of 
our  libraries  seem  to  prove  is  now  the  well-nigh  univer- 
sal practice.  We  ought  to  read  at  least  as  much  history 
as  fiction.  After  all,  the  characters  that  God  actually 
has  permitted  to  exist,  have  as  strong  a  claim  on  our 
attention  as  those  which  some  novelist  has  created. 
We  ought  to  read  at  least  as  much  science  as  we  read 
fiction.  And  lastly,  we  ought  to  read  at  least  as  much 
serious  fiction  as  that  which  aims  simply  to  amuse. 


CHAPTER  V 

MEMORY 
THE   PHYSICAL  BASIS   OF  MEMORY 

MEMORY  is  a  habit,  and  in  its  usual  meaning  noth- 
ing but  a  habit.  When  we  say  we  remember  how  to 
spell  a  word  we  mean  simply  that  when  the  image  of 
the  word  is  before  the  mind  and  when  we  start  to  write 
it  the  hand  has  the  habit  of  writing  just  the  right  suc- 
cession of  letters.  There  must  be  some  sort  of  * '  groove ' ' 
or  "  rail  "  in  the  brain,  built  up  by  previous  repetitions 
of  the  act,  over  which  the  nervous  impulses  travel  in 
such  a  way  as  to  make  the  hand  go  through  the  neces- 
sary motions  to  form  the  word.  To  remember  the 
multiplication  table,  means  to  have  a  certain  set  of 
habits  in  the  nerve  centers  for  the  organs  of  speech, 
which  makes  these  organs  repeat  the  multiplication 
table  aright.  If  we  know  the  multiplication  table 
so  well  that  we  do  not  need  to  repeat  a  table  from  the 
beginning  even  silently  or  in  imagination  in  order  to 
find  out  any  product  in  that  table,  this  means  that  the 
visual  or  auditory  centers  of  the  brain  have  the  habit 
of  innervating  in  the  proper  way  for  picturing  the  re- 
quired portion  of  the  table  whenever  it  is  necessary, 
or  that  the  motor  center  for  speech  acts  automatically. 
Map  knowledge  in  geography,  names  and  dates  in 
history,  are  memorized  in  the  same  way.  We  get  into 

43 


44  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

the  habit  of  thinking  "  1492  "  as  soon  as  we  have 
thought  "  Columbus  discovered  America." 

Hence  physiologically,  psychologically,  and  peda- 
gogically,  habit,  skill,  and  memory  are  one  and  the 
same  in  almost  all  aspects. 

The  student  is  warned,  however,  from  holding  the 
doctrine  of  the  physical  basis  of  memory  in  its  bald 
materialistic  form.  We  must  not  imagine  that  the 
cortex  of  the  brain  is  simply  a  tabula  inscripta  upon 
which  neural  currents  have  recorded  the  experience 
of  the  past. 

Since  the  cortex  of  the  brain  changes  every  few  weeks, 
it  takes  an  athletic  imagination  to  believe  that  every 
atom  in  the  new  set  of  matter  should  occupy  exactly 
the  position  of  a  corresponding  set,  unless  there  is  some 
syntactic  force  that  places  the  atoms  according  to  a  cer- 
tain plan,  which  this  rebuilding  force  possesses.  Le- 
sions have  occurred  in  the  cortex  of  the  brain  and 
entailed  loss  of  corresponding  functions  and  memory. 
But  sometimes  the  lesions  have  grown  in  again  and 
healed,  and  the  patient  has  recovered.  Evidently 
the  "  paths  "  and  "  channels  "  have  been  reproduced 
in  the  new  matter  just  as  they  were  in  the  old,  though 
for  a  tune  there  had  simply  been  a  hole  there. 

ANALYSIS  OF  MEMORY 

Every  complete  act  of  memory  involves  reproduction 
and  recognition.  The  act  of  reproduction  is  nothing 
more  than  reproductive  imagination,  which  is  the  sim- 
plest form  of  imagination,  just  reproducing  former 
percepts  in  their  original  form. 

But  this  is  not  a  complete  act  of  memory.    In  fact, 


Memory  45 

the  essential  element  of  memory  is  lacking.  I  am  con- 
scious of  having  a  wart  on  my  finger  to-day,  I  was  con- 
scious of  it  yesterday,  and  I  will  be  to-morrow,  but  if 
to-morrow  I  do  not  recognize  my  present  percept  of  a 
wart  as  being  in  any  way  related  to  my  former  percepts, 
I  cannot  say  that  I  remember  anything.  To  be  com- 
plete memory,  there  must  be  a  recognition  that  the 
present  image  or  percept  is  a  copy  of  a  former  image 
or  percept.  This  involves  a  great  mystery.  How  can 
we  compare  the  present  image  with  a  mental  state 
that  is  past  and  gone?  It  will  not  do  to  say  that  we 
have  the  record  in  the  brain  to  go  by,  because  all  that 
the  "  paths  "  in  the  brain  can  do  is  to  furnish  the  con- 
ditions for  the  revival  of  the  former,  image.  But 
when  "  revived,"  it  will  be  a  new  present  image,  of 
course,  with  no  odor  clinging  to  it  of  a  grave  from 
which  it  was  resurrected.  To  me,  this  power  of  the 
mind  to  compare  its  present  state  with  a  past  state, 
proves  that  time  is  in  the  mind  and  not  the  mind  in 
time.  It  proves  that  both  the  past  and  present  are 
included  by  the  mind.  For  that  matter,  if  the  mind 
existed  in  the  present  only,  how  could  we  ever  get  so 
much  as  an  inkling  that  there  is  such  a  thing  as  a  past  ? 

SENSE  CLASSES  OF  MEMORY 

Just  as  in  the  case  of  perception  and  imagination, 
so  memory  may  be  said  to  be  of  as  many  classes  as 
there  are  senses.  The  three  most  important  classes 
are  visual,  motor,  and  auditory;  next,  but  far  less  im- 
portant, is  tactile  memory,  and  again  far  below  tactile, 
we  find  gustatory,  olfactory,  and  temperature  memories. 

Visual   Memory.  —  Visual  memory  is  probably  in 


46  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

most  persons  of  greatest  importance.  The  art  of  read- 
ing tends  to  increase  the  visual  sphere  at  the  expense 
of  the  auditory.  This  subject  will  be  discussed  more 
fully  in  Part  II. 

Motor  Memory.  —  Motor  memory  is  more  promi- 
nent in  our  lives  than  we  usually  recognize.  Languages 
that  we  speak,  we  remember  by  motor  memory  of  the 
vocal  organs.  When  we  have  a  thought  to  express, 
just  the  right  movements  of  the  vocal  organs  to  express 
that  thought  occur  to  us.  So,  physiologically,  a 
spoken  language  resides  in  a  portion  of  the  motor  zone 
of  the  brain.  A  language  we  read  is  of  course  remem- 
bered by  visual  memory,  more  or  less  in  connection 
with  auditory  memory.  In  the  case  of  a  language  we 
have  first  learned  from  books  we  probably,  most  of  us, 
translate  immediately  the  auditory  image  into  a  visual 
image  before  we  have  a  complete  percept  of  it.  For, 
usually,  languages  first  learned  from  books  never  pene- 
trate very  far  into  auditory  memory.  To  most  college 
students  an  oral  Latin  sentence  is  unintelligible  and 
to  be  understood  must  be  reduced  to  writing.  If  an 
oral  Latin  sentence  is  understood,  the  mind  usually 
translates  the  auditory  images  into  the  visual  memories 
of  printed  words. 

Tactile  Memory.  —  Memories  connected  with  the 
sense  of  touch  have  a  wonderful  way  of  attaching  them- 
selves to  visual  percepts.  Things  look  hard  or  soft, 
appear  rough  or  velvety,  we  say;  which  means  that 
our  experience  tells  us  that  objects  of  a  certain  visual 
appearance  have  these  qualities.  When  the  visual 
image  appears  in  the  mind,  the  tactile  memory  revives, 
and  we  have  the  tactile  experiences  connected  in 


Memory  47 

imagination  and  perception  with  the  visual.  Now 
those  tactile  memories  attach  themselves  directly  to 
the  visual  percepts  and  seem  to  be  a  part  of  them. 

Gustatory  and  Olfactory  Experiences.  —  Flavors 
and  odors  can  scarcely  be  imagined  at  all  by  the  ordi- 
nary tongue  and  nose.  Try  to  imagine  as  common  a 
taste  as  salt  and  contrast  it  with,  say,  quinine.  Or 
compare  in  imagination  the  odor  of  a  rose  with  that  of 
a  violet.  To  most  persons  the  result  will  be  vague. 
But  though  it  is  difficult  to  recall  flavors  and  odors  in 
imagination,  it  is  easy  to  recognize  them  when  they 
recur,  which,  of  course,  is  as  truly  memory  as  the  first 
case. 

Odor  memories  attach  themselves  readily  to  memories 
of  emotions.  In  fact,  odors  are  the  cues  for  the  rec- 
ollection of  emotions.  When  a  child  of  five  years  I 
lived  for  a  summer  in  Minneapolis,  then  a  lumber  mill 
town.  Every  tune  now  that  I  get  the  odor  of  pine 
lumber,  I  am  back  again  in  the  emotional  atmosphere 
of  childhood,  and  I  remember  just  how  it  felt  to  clam- 
ber down  the  steep  banks  of  the  Mississippi. 

THE  TWO  KINDS   OF  MEMORY 

Memory  may  be  divided  into  two  classes,  mechanical 
and  logical. 

Logical  Memory.  —  All  our  past  experience  is  found 
in  our  subconsciousness,  —  but  not  in  a  confused  un- 
related mass,  but  more  or  less  connected  by  bonds  of 
association.  These  bonds  are  stronger,  more  system- 
atic, and  more  frequent  in  the  well  developed,  well 
educated  mind  than  in  the  uneducated.  The  problem 
in  memory  is  how  to  get  the  idea  from  the  subconscious 


48          Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

"  part "  of  the  mind  into  consciousness.  This  can 
only  be  done  by  starting  from  something  in  conscious- 
ness at  the  present  moment  and  following  the  associa- 
tion strands  as  they  lead  down  into  the  subconscious, 
until  if  possible  the  desired  idea  is  reached.  Logical 
memory  is  a  process  of  integration.  The  mind  recon- 
structs the  logical  whole  of  which  both  the  idea  present 
in  the  mind  and  the  desired  idea  to  be  remembered 
form  parts.  All  we  have  to  do  is  to  bring  up  the  whole 
unity  from  the  subconscious,  and  then  necessarily 
the  desired  idea  will  also  come  up.  In  the  vast  vault 
of  the  subconscious,  ideas  are  grouped  and  connected 
according  to  their  logical  affinity:  cause  and  effect, 
whole  and  parts,  purpose,  means  and  result,  similarity 
and  dissimilarity.  When  the  desired  idea  is  fished  up 
by  means  of  a  logical  line  of  relations,  we  have  logical 
memory. 

The  way  to  memorize  logically  is  then  plain.  Form 
firm  and  clear  logical  unities.  Dwell  upon  relations, 
not  alone  upon  facts.  Discriminate  in  your  choice 
of  relations ;  choose  those  which  make  useful  and  nat- 
ural logical  unities.  The  Council  of  Worms  may  of 
course  be  associated  with  worms  in  zoology,  because 
of  the  similarity  of  sound  or  rather  of  letters,  but  it 
is  unwise  to  establish  such  a  unity  in  the  mind,  as  we 
are  not  likely  to  desire  to  think  of  worms  when  the 
"  Council  of  Worms "  is  before  the  mind.  Clarity 
and  distinctness  of  conception  are  vital  necessities  to 
good  logical  memory. 

In  studying  any  subject  where  there  is  a  field  for 
logical  memory,  try  to  understand  the  subject  as  thor- 
oughly as  possible.  That  is,  seek  out  as  many  of  its 


Memory  49 

relations  and  ramifications  as  possible,  and  determine 
the  logical  rank  and  value  of  each.  Put  the  subject 
in  its  true  perspective  so  that  the  small  may  appear 
small,  and  the  important  truly  great.  Leave  no  dark 
corner  unexplored  and  leave  no  misty  borderland. 
At  times  you  must  finally  leave  an  idea  under  the 
category :  "  I  don't  know,"  but  then  be  sure  just  where 
your  knowledge  stops  and  your  ignorance  begins. 
Always  look  for  the  unifying  idea.  No  logical  study 
is  ripe  until  it  has  discovered  the  great  mother  thought 
that  unifies,  illuminates,  and  informs  the  whole  region. 
It  is  safe  to  say  that  under  normal  circumstances  noth- 
ing that  has  been  thoroughly  learned  by  the  logical 
method  can  ever  be  forgotten. 

Mechanical  Memory.  —  Some  things  must  be  memo- 
rized, however,  whose  logical  relations  are  so  weak  or 
recondite  that  they  are  of  no  practical  value  for  mem- 
ory, or  which  are  entirely  without  such  relations. 
Why  should  the  names  of  our  foremost  national  heroes 
be  Washington  and  Lincoln?  There  is  no  logical 
strand  that  leads  to  those  names  rather  than  to  Smith 
or  Jones.  Again,  that  7  X  7  =  49  may  be  verified 
"  logically  "  on  the  fingers,  but  this  process  is  so  slow, 
that  it  is  well  to  know  the  multiplication  table  mechani- 
cally as  an  arbitrary  set  of  facts. 

Mechanical  memory  depends  on  mechanical  asso- 
ciation, and  seems  to  be  most  perfectly  explained  by 
the  hypothetical  grooves,  or  "  paths  "  in  the  gray  mat- 
ter of  the  cortex  of  the  brain.  Let  us  anticipate  the 
law  of  mechanical  association:  If  two  ideas  have 
been  together  in  the  mind,  either  simultaneously  or  in 
succession,  the  recurrence  of  one  of  these  ideas  will 


50  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

tend  to  recall  the  other.  The  strength  of  this  associa- 
tion varies  in  direct  proportion  to  the  time  the  two  ideas 
have  been  together  in  the  mind  in  clear  consciousness 
and  in  inverse  proportion  to  the  time  that  has  elapsed 
since  they  were  so  together. 

There  is  therefore  one  method  and  one  method  only 
for  mechanical  memorizing :  Repeat.  Practice,  re- 
view, drill,  are  other  names  for  the  same  process.  This 
is  not  simply  the  most  important,  it  is  absolutely  the 
only  exercise,  method,  or  device  that  will  in  the  least 
further  mechanical  memorizing.  Clear  understanding 
of  the  subject  does  not  contribute  to  mechanical  mem- 
ory. Nonsense  rhymes  are  as  easily  memorized  as 
poetry,  as  far  as  the  mere  mechanical  part  is  concerned. 
Thoughtless,  "  parrot  "  repetition  of  the  multiplica- 
tion table,  provided  it  is  accurate,  is  as  efficacious  as 
repetition  with  concentrated  attention  in  fixing  the 
table  in  memory. 

THE  PEDAGOGY  OF  MEMORY 

The  pedagogy  of  memory  becomes,  then,  very  sim- 
ple. Whenever  possible,  use  logical  memory.  That 
is,  find  some  rational  connection  between  the  known 
and  the  unknown.  Form  some  larger  logical  unit  of 
which  that  to  be  remembered  is  an  integral  part. 
Find  for  every  new  acquisition  of  knowledge  its  appro- 
priate, logical  place  in  your  intellectual  store.  Do 
this  whenever  possible,  and  reduce  mechanical  memory 
to  its  lowest  terms,  but  don't  fail  to  recognize  that 
there  is  an  irreducible  surd  in  every  branch  of  knowl- 
edge that  refuses  to  be  memorized  logically.  This 
must  be  memorized  by  drill,  by  plain,  simple  repetition. 


Memory  51 

Old-fashioned  and  Modern  Methods  of  Teaching 
Compared.  —  One  reason  why  so  often  the  inspiring 
teacher  of  to-day,  who  makes  the  pupil  think,  is  apt  to 
"  lack  in  thoroughness  "  is  that  he  does  not  drill  enough. 
He  fails  to  fix  the  mechanical  starting  points  and  mile 
posts  in  the  minds  of  his  pupils.  And  often  he  attempts 
the  impossibility  of  trying  to  get  even  this  surd  ra- 
tionally. He  will  stop  his  drill  to  pursue  some  delight- 
ful logical  chain  of  thought  with  his  pupils.  Now  this 
exercise  in  thinking  is  surely  more  entertaining  than 
mere  mechanical  memorizing,  and  in  every  way  a 
higher  kind  of  mental  activity.  But  the  mechanical 
element  is  absolutely  necessary.  Hence  it  is  an  injury 
to  the  pupil  to  allow  him  to  neglect  the  only  exercise 
that  ever  will  give  him  this  element  in  his  education. 

Our  grandfathers  spent  all  their  time  in  the  ele- 
mentary schools  in  memorizing.  Their  teachers  were 
all  drill  masters,  and  school  was  a  treadmill  of  repeti- 
tion. Very  naturally,  our  grandfathers  detested  school, 
and  considered  it  a  necessary  evil.  Our  fathers  dis- 
covered that  there  is  nobler  work  to  be  done  in  the 
schoolroom  than  memorizing.  The  pupil  was  invited 
and  incited  to  think.  Converts  easily  become  fanatics. 
The  teaching  profession,  discovering  that  it  had  neg- 
lected the  greatest  things  in  school  life,  became  en- 
thusiastic for  reform.  No  more  soul-killing  drill  now 
in  the  schoolroom !  All  was  to  be  "  development  " ! 
The  pupil  was  always  and  everywhere  asked,  did  he 
understand  f  never,  did  he  know  ?  The  result  is  slightly 
ludicrous.  We  have  classes  in  English  history  dis- 
cussing the  spirit  of  English  liberty,  who  do  not  know 
whether  Alfred  was  a  Saxon  or  a  Dane. 


52  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

The  product  of  the  old  school  knew  as  a  rule  only  a 
string  of  meaningless  names  and  dates ;  the  product  of 
the  new  school  knows  not  even  that.  A  certain  amount 
of  memorizing  is  necessary,  and  to  get  it  we  must  still 
maintain  some  of  that  old-fashioned  drill  our  grand- 
fathers practiced  and  our  fathers  ridiculed. 

Exercises 

1.  Illustrate  how  the  paths  of  discharge  in  the  nervous 
system  are  supposed  to  condition  memory. 

2.  In  a  history  lesson,  what  would  you  memorize  by  logical 
and  what  by  mechanical  memory? 

3.  How  would  you  memorize  the  logical  element  of  a  lesson? 

4.  How  would  you  learn  the  multiplication  table  ? 

5.  How  would  you  learn  to  spell  ? 

6.  Give  any  devices  you  may  know  for  making  drill  less 
tedious. 

7.  Recall  the  odor  of  coffee  and  contrast  it  with  the  odor  of 
tea. 

8.  Give  an  example  if  you  can  of  a  case  where  an  odor  has 
recalled  a  past  event  in  your  life. 


CHAPTER  VI 
CONCEPTION   AND    JUDGMENT 

CONCEPTS,  THEIR  FORMATION  AND  APPLICATION 

HITHERTO,  we  have  dealt  only  with  products  of  the 
mind  which  have  the  space  form,  images  and  percepts. 
We  shall  now  study  the  higher  form  of  the  intellectual 
activity,  thought  proper,  and  its  products.  The  unit 
of  thought  is  the  concept. 

The  concept  is  a  unit  of  the  meaning  of  things,  which 
the  mind  handles  as  an  integer  and  as  having  indi- 
vidual existence.  It  may  be  defined  as  a  unity  of 
attributes,  or  notions. 

Abstraction.  —  Concepts  are  formed  by  abstrac- 
tion. This  consists  in  mentally  separating  a  notion 
or  attribute  from  some  percept  or  image.  Abstrac- 
tion is  no  spatial  affair  even  when  dealing  with  space 
concepts.  Thus  when  we  abstract  red  from  a  red  sur- 
face, we  do  something  which  cannot  possibly  be  pic- 
tured. For  we  cannot  imagine  or  perceive  red  without 
also  imagining  or  perceiving  a  red  surface.  But  we 
can  think  of  a  color  without  logical  reference  to  surface. 

But  qualities,  notions,,  are  not  only  abstracted. 
They  are  also  put  together  into  new  unities,  which  we 
call  concepts.  This  process  ought  by  rights  to  be  called 
concretion. 

Generalization.  —  After  having  formed  a  concept, 
we  apply  it ;  that  is,  determine  what  objects  contain  the 

53 


54  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

concept,  or  "  come  under  "it.  This  is  generalization. 
The  number  of  objects  to  which  a  concept  applies  forms 
its  extension. 

Sometimes  it  is  given  as  an  absolute  rule  that  "  in- 
tension, the  number  of  attributes,  varies  inversely  as 
extension."  This  is  generally  but  not  always  true. 

The  general  truth  of  the  statement  can  be  appre- 
ciated from  the  following :  — 

The  concept  vertebrate  is  very  simple;  it  is  only  an 
animal  with  a  backbone.  Its  intension  is  hence  very 
small ;  but  its  extension  is  very  great,  as  it  includes 
all  animals  with  backbone. 

The  concept  carnivora  has  a  greater  intension  than 
vertebrate,  as  it  has  all  the  attributes  of  vertebrate  with 
flesh  eating  added.  But  of  course,  by  the  same  token 
its  extension  is  smaller  since  it  contains  only  a  part  of 
vertebrate  animals. 

Concepts  may  also  be  classified  as  general,  if  they 
apply  to  all  of  a  certain  class ;  and  particular,  if  they 
apply  only  to  individuals. 

Evolution  of  Concepts.  —  Now  study  the  genera- 
tion and  evolution  of  concepts  concretely.  The  baby 
learns  to  call  a  certain  bearded  man  father.  He  forms 
the  concept  man-with-whiskers  =  father;  and  will  at  first 
call  all  bearded  men  father.  In  time  he  learns  that 
the  intension  of  the  concept  his  father  includes  much 
more  than  whisker-man. 

CLASS  CONCEPTS  AND  PRACTICAL  CONCEPTS 

Some  psychologists  recognize  no  concept  except  class 
concepts.  But  the  unit  of  thought  most  frequently 
used  is  not  the  class  concept. 


Conception  and  Judgment  55 

Thus  in  ordinary  thinking  we  do  not  think  of  the 
cat  as  the  domesticated  small  member  of  the  feline 
family  carnivora,  class  vertebrate.  We  think  of  it 
as  a  mouse  catcher,  a  nuisance  for  shedding  hair,  a 
nice  pet,  or  the  one  who  is  to  have  the  milk,  just  as  it 
happens.  We  may  call  this  other  class  of  concepts  prac- 
tical concepts. 

We  are  all  practical  in  forming  our  workaday  con- 
cepts, and  none  more  so  than  children.  We  are  in 
the  best  sense  pragmatists ;  a  thing  goes  with  us  under 
the  concept  of  its  use.  Ask  a  child,  and  he  will  tell 
you  that  a  cup  is  "  something  to  drink  out  of,"  a  pen  is 
"  something  to  write  with,"  a  bed  is  "  what  we  sleep 
on,"  and  snow  is  "  to  make  snowballs  of  and  to  coast 
on." 

So  rich  in  attributes  or  relations  (as  attributes  also 
may  be  called)  are  the  objects  around  us  that  we  never 
use  more  than  a  small  part  of  them  in  forming  our 
concepts.  And  naturally,  we  pick  out  those  relations 
which  are  of  most  interest  to  us.  Thus  an  oak  is  so 
many  hundred  feet  of  lumber,  to  the  lumberman; 
a  tree  of  the  Quercus  family  and  with  certain  biolog- 
ical peculiarities,  to  the  botanist ;  a  source  of  tan- 
bark,  to  the  tanner;  a  producer  of  acorns  as  food  for 
hogs,  to  the  hog-raising  farmer;  a  splendid  shade 
producer,  to  the  picnic  party;  and  an  important  ele- 
ment in  the  composition  of  a  landscape  picture,  to  the 
artist.  Each  has  a  concept  of  the  oak,  true  and  ade- 
quate for  his  present  purpose,  and  still  each  has  a 
different  concept.  A  practical  concept,  then,  may  be 
said  to  form  around  a  center  of  interest. 

However,  in  the  system  of  human  knowledge  known 


56  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

as  science,  there  is  a  concept  of  every  object  of  thought, 
which  we  call  the  scientific  or  class  concept.  This  is 
the  essential  meaning,  the  central  meaning,  of  that 
thing,  and  may  be  considered  the  mother  concept 
from  which  all  other  meanings  can  be  derived. 

Definitions.  —  Class  concepts  can  very  easily  be 
tagged  and  identified,  and  this  process  is  the  scientific 
form  of  definition.  A  definition  consists  in  giving  the 
next  general  class  (genus  proximum)  and  the  specific 
difference  (differentia  specified).  Example:  — 

A  quadrilateral  may  be  defined  as  a  plane  figure  with 
four  sides.  Here  plane  figure  is  the  next  class  and  four 
sides  is  the  specific  difference.  Again,  a  parallelogram 
may  be  defined  as  a  quadrilateral  with  opposite  sides 
parallel. 

SYMBOL  AND  CONCEPT 

/  No  concept  can  be  pictured,  not  even  the  concepts 
of  space-occupying  objects.  For  example,  take  the 
concept  "  dog."  You  cannot  make  a  picture  of  it, 
for,  pray,  what  size  would  you  make  it,  and  what  color  ? 
It  must  at  the  same  time  fit  a  lapdog  and  a  St.  Bernard. 
It  must  be  as  long  and  low  as  a  dachshund,  as  slender 
as  a  greyhound,  and  as  stocky  as  a  bulldog.  So  it  is 
quite  evident  that  no  picture  can  be  made  of  this  con- 
cept. Harder  still  would  it  be  to  picture  beauty  or 
truth,  or  reciprocity. 

Concept  without  Symbol  Impossible.  —  But  we 
cannot  think  of  a  concept  without  the  use  of  some 
image.  However  general  an  assertion  we  make  about 
dogs,  we  must  have  some  "  doggy  "  image  to  which  to 
fasten  our  thoughts.  "  Pure  thought  "  without  any 


Conception  and  Judgment  57 

space  image  is  an  impossibility.    But  the  image  is 
never  the  concept.     It  is  a  counter  which  stands  for   f 
a  meaning  that  always  transcends  it. 

This  representative  image  is  naturally  an  example 
of  the  class,  if  the  concept  is  such  as  to  allow  it.  Thus 
the  representative  image  in  the  case  of  the  concept 
dog  is  an  image  of  a  dog,  usually  of  some  dog  familiar 
to  the  thinker.  But  in  many  of  the  higher  concepts 
this  is  not  possible.  Where  the  concept  is  an  abstract 
quality,  the  symbol  may  be  the  image  of  a  thing  con- 
taining it.  Thus  heat  may  be  represented  by  a  flame, 
and  beauty  by  a  beautiful  woman. 

But  often  the  relation  between  symbol  and  concept 
is  much  more  tenuous,  and  sometimes  entirely  artificial. 
Thus  when  the  banker  thinks  of  profit  and  loss,  he 
probably  sees  in  his  imagination  simply  those  written 
words  in  a  ledger. 

Danger  of  mistaking  Symbol  for  Concept.  —  Much 
vicious  thinking  consists  in  mistaking  the  symbol  of 
the  concept  for  the  meaning  for  which  the  symbol 
stands.  It  is  natural  and  perfectly  right  that  we  should 
allow  the  symbol  to  share  in  the  glory  and  honor  of 
its  meaning,  for  only  thus  can  we  practically  honor  the 
meaning.  Thus  the  Christian  rightly  honors  the  cross, 
and  the  patriot  will  not  allow  his  country's  flag  to  be 
treated  disrespectfully.  But  as  soon  as  we  lose  the 
sense  of  the  derivative  and  reflected  nature  of  the 
symbol's  value,  we  are  in  grave  danger.  Much  of 
the  fanaticism  of  the  world  results  from  the  mistaking 
of  symbols  for  concepts. 

"  Bonehead  "  is  a  picturesque  term  of  the  diamond. 
There  is  a  kind  of  ossification  of  the  mind  that  is  com- 


58  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

mon  both  off  and  on  the  baseball  field.  This  ossifica- 
tion is  much  facilitated  by  the  unvarying  use  of  the 
same  symbol  for  the  same  concept.  Thus,  a  convict's 
stripes  stand  for  moral  depravity,  and  a  "  stove  pipe  " 
hat  for  respectability,  and  many  find  it  difficult  to 
dissociate  the  symbol  and  its  usual  meaning  even  when 
they  know  that  the  actual  facts  are  exactly  the  opposite. 
Much  narrowness  of  thought  results  from  mistaking 
the  symbol  for  the  meaning.  The  simplest  of  symbols 
or  representative  images  is  noted  when  an  individual 
is  made  to  represent  a  class.  Two  patriots  are  discuss- 
ing woman's  suffrage.  "  I  tell  you,"  says  A,  "  women 
have  not  sense  enough  to  use  the  ballot.  I  know  they 
haven't.  Now  my  kitchen  maid,  this  morning,  mis- 
took a  sack  of  Portland  cement  for  buckwheat  flour, 
and  actually  had  it  on  the  griddle !  And  you  would 
give  the  women  the  ballot !  "  His  interlocutor,  who 
is  madly  in  love,  can  think  of  nobody  but  his  lady  love 
when  he  thinks  of  the  fair  sex,  and  he  declares  that  if 
women  had  the  ballot,  corruption  would  vanish  from 
politics  before  their  pure  presence  as  mist  before  the 
morning  sun,  that  even  the  sin-seared  political  boss  in 
the  presence  of  such  angelic  beings  would  shrivel  up 
like  the  guilty  thing  he  is,  and  reform  or  hie  himself  to  a 
hole  to  die  in.  Both  are  making  an  accidental  indi- 
vidual stand  as  the  synopsis  as  well  as  the  symbol  of 
the  whole  sex. 

THE  RIGHT  KIND  OF  CONCEPTS 

Concepts  should  be  clear,  definite,  and  rich.  The 
store  of  concepts  in  the  mind  should  be  well  organized; 
that  is,  classified  and  related.  This  is  almost  self- 


Conception  and  Judgment  59 

evident.  Loose  and  lazy  thinking  results  in  lazy  ideas 
which  imperceptibly  melt  into  one  another.  Science 
has  been  defined  as  classified  knowledge,  and  as  the 
concept  is  the  logical  unit  of  knowledge,  science  con- 
sists in  classified  concepts, 

THE  LOGICAL  CLASSES  OF  CONCEPTS 

Concepts  are  often  divided  into  substantive  and 
attributive  concepts,  but  the  following  seems  to  be 
a  more  consistent  and  complete  division :  — 

(a)   Ideas  of  things,  substantive  concepts. 

(6)   Ideas  of  events,  motor  concepts. 

(c)  Ideas  of  qualities,  attributive  concepts. 

(d)  Ideas  of  manner  or  circumstance,  modal  concepts. 

(e)  Ideas  of  relation  between  two  other  concepts, 

relative  concepts. 

These  classes  correspond  respectively  to  nouns  and 
pronouns,  verbs,  adjectives,  adverbs,  and  relation 
words,  as  prepositions  and  conjunctions. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  substantive  concepts  may  be 
thought  of  independent  of  any  other  concept.  Motor 
concepts  are  always  thought  of  as  united  to  some  sub- 
stantive concept.  Thus  we  cannot  have  the  idea 
running  without  that  of  some  one  running.  Attrib- 
utive and  modal  concepts  are  always  dependent  or 
secondary  to  some  other  concept.  They  are  fractions 
of  a  larger  unity.  Thus  good  implies  that  some  be- 
ing is  good,  and  swiftly  that  some  motion  happens 
swiftly.  The  relative  concept,  of  course,  implies  two 
other  concepts,  since  a  relation  is  always  between  two 
ideas.  This  discussion  shows  that  grammar  is  logic 
incarnate,  and  that  logic  is  the  soul  of  grammar. 


60  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

JUDGMENT 

How  a  Judgment  is  Formed.  —  Judgment  is  explicit 
conception,  and  the  object  of  the  judgment  activity 
is  to  organize  and  relate  our  concepts  and  to  produce 
new  concepts  by  uniting  old  ones. 

A  judgment  when  put  into  words  takes  the  form  of  a 
sentence  and,  as  such,  can  be  studied  and  analyzed 
without  difficulty.  The  judgment,  then,  consists  of 
subject  and  predicate.  The  subject  concept  is  always 
a  substantive  concept.  Hence  the  subject  is  always 
thought  of  as  a  space-occupying  object,  a  thing,  while 
the  predicate  is  always  thought  of  as  a  time-occupying 
energy,  an  event.  Thus,  in  the  judgment,  "  Birds  fly," 
birds  is  the  subject,  a  space-occupying  object,  and  fly 
is  the  predicate,  a  time-occupying  event.  But  mere 
existence,  a  state  of  being,  has  duration  and  is  an  event. 
Thus  in  "  The  mountain  is  high,"  the  predicate  is 
high  may  be  translated  "  endures  as  a  high  object." 
A  judgment  then  consists  in  the  union  of  a  space  con- 
cept with  a  time  concept,  and  the  result  is  a  space- 
and-time  concept. 

Kinds  of  Judgments.  —  Judgments  may  be  positive 
or  negative ;  particular  or  general,  as :  "  Birds  fly ;  " 
"Dogs  do  not  fly;"  "  All  horses  are  vertebrates;" 
"  Some  horses  are  black." 

In  positive  judgments,  the  subject  never  exceeds 
the  predicate  in  extension.  Thus  in  "  This  butter  is 
strong,"  the  subject  concept  this  butter  (happily  for 
the  boarder)  is  not  as  extensive  as  is  the  predicate  is 
strong  (butter). 

Relation  of  Judgment  to  Conception.  —  Judgment 
should  not  be  thought  of  as  a  less  fundamental  process 


Conception  and  Judgment  61 

than  conception.  The  mind  does  not  first  make  con- 
cepts and  then  proceed  to  piece  these  concepts  together 
to  form  judgments.  It  is  probable  that  the  two  pro- 
cesses appeared  in  consciousness  together  and  developed 
together. 

For  purposes  of  study,  conception  and  judgment 
have  been  separated  from  each  other  and  recognized 
as  two  separate  processes,  but  in  our  conscious  life 
they  are  inextricably  bound  together,  each  involving 
the  other. 

Exercises 

1.  Illustrate  the  differences  between  concept  and  percept  by 
describing  what  is  meant  by  the  concept  and  the  percept  of 
the  following :  circle,  lion,  goodness,  ratio,  ocean. 

2.  What  is  your  everyday  concept  of  house,  dinner,  book. 

3.  What  is  your  thought  symbol  for  beauty,  truth,    United 
States,  Congress,  war,  learning,  mercy  f 

4.  Give  an  instance  of  mistaking  symbol  for  meaning. 

5.  Why   is   spit   vulgar    and    saliva    admissible?     Why    is 
serpent  more  dignified  than  snake  f 

6.  Give  an  example  of  a  subject  that  is  equal  in  extension 
to  its  predicate. 


CHAPTER  VII 
REASONING 

Reasoning  may  be  used  broadly  as  a  synonym  of 
thinking,  and  reason  and  intellect  have  practically  the 
same  meaning.  But  it  is  convenient  in  psychology  to 
use  reason  and  reasoning  in  a  more  restricted  sense. 
Here  reasoning  will  be  used  as  meaning  a  logically 
connected  chain  of  judgments  resulting  in  a  judgment 
which  is  a  conclusion. 

Hence  reasoning  is  explicit  judgment,  as  judgment 
is  explicit  conception. 

So  we  have  — 

Concept  +  concept  =  judgment. 

Judgment  +  judgment  =  chain  of  reasoning. 

There  are  two  kinds  of  reasoning,  inductive  and 
deductive. 

INDUCTIVE  REASONING 

Our  one  source  of  knowledge  is  experience.  But 
we  should  be  in  a  sorry  plight  if  we  could  not  anticipate 
experience.  A  child  touches  a  red-hot  stove.  Very 
well  (or  rather,  very  ill,  from  the  child's  standpoint), 
he  knows  something  from  experience.  What  does  he 
know  directly  from  experience?  "  That  the  stove  must 
not  be  touched."  Not  at  all ;  that  is  a  very  complex 
conclusion.  "  That  he  will  burn  his  finger  again,  if  he 
touches  the  stove  again."  Yes,  he  knows  that,  but 

62 


Reasoning  63 

not  directly  from  experience.  In  fact,  he  can  hardly 
be  said  to  know  anything  directly  from  experience ; 
or  rather,  experience  itself,  as  he  knows  it,  is  a  complex 
series  of  conclusions  he  has  arrived  at  more  or  less 
logically.  He  knows  that  if  he  touches  that  stove 
again  he  will  again  be  burnt ;  and  he  knows  it  as  the 
result  of  a  complex  mental  process.  This  process  we 
are  now  to  study. 

The  hot  stove  burnt  me,  is  the  first  judgment,  which 
comes  as  near  being  pure  experience  as  is  possible. 
Like  causes  have  like  results,  is  the  universal  postulate 
which  we  all  subconsciously  make.  The  stove  seems 
to  be  in  the  same  condition  now  as  it  was  a  moment  ago, 
when  I  burnt  myself,  hence  if  I  touch  the  stove  again,  I 
shall  make  all  the  conditions  the  same  as  at  my  former 
experience.  This  now  completes  the  chain  of  reason- 
ing, except  for  the  conclusion :  The  result  would  be  the 
same:  I  should  be  burnt. 

In  this  way  we  anticipate  experience,  and  profit 
by  experience.  Inductive  reasoning  is  hence  a  way 
of  getting  ahead  of  experience,  of  making  it  unnecessary. 

The  rational  world  is  an  organized  unity  lying  be- 
tween the  two  poles,  law  and  fact.  Induction  is  a 
method  for  getting  from  the  facts  to  the  law. 

Complete  Induction.  —  If  every  instance,  or  fact, 
under  a  certain  class,  or  law,  is  examined,  we  can  ar- 
rive at  a  truth  that  is  as  certain  as  experience  itself. 
Thus  we  may  say  that  for  half  a  century  there  has 
been  no  frost  in  Iowa  in  July. 

But  complete  induction  is  seldom  possible  and  some- 
times not  desirable.  For  example,  farmers  in  Minne- 
sota will  plant  corn  about  the  middle  of  May,  a  long 


64  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

series  of  inductions  having  told  them  that  it  is  generally 
safe  from  frost  at  that  time.  They  cannot  in  the  na- 
ture of  the  case  wait  until  all  Mays  are  gone  before 
they  assert  that  the  middle  of  May  is  safe,  and  plant 
their  corn. 

The  story  is  told  of  a  gentleman  whose  "  man  " 
brought  home  a  box  of  poor  matches.  "  Next  time 
you  buy  matches,  test  them,"  said  he  to  his  "  man." 
The  next  box  of  matches  proved  even  a  worse  dis- 
appointment. Not  one  of  them  would  light.  "  Why 
didn't  you  test  them  ?  "  the  servant  was  asked.  "  Oh, 
but  I  did," responded  he ;  "I  tested  every  last  match  in 
the  box."  He  had  made  a  complete  induction. 

So  practically  we  must  be  satisfied  with  a  limited 
number  of  inductive  examples.  In  this  way,  to  be 
sure,  we  never  reach  absolute  certainty,  but  we  get 
what  is  just  as  useful,  pragmatic  certainty.  We  al- 
ways try  to  apply  to  the  problem  the  axiom,  "  Like 
causes  produce  like  effects,"  which  removes  the  problem 
from  the  sphere  of  induction,  and  makes  it  deductive. 
But  generally  the  problem  cannot  be  made  to  come 
under  the  law  of  like  causes  fully,  since  it  is  hardly 
possible  to  become  absolutely  certain  that  the  causal 
situations  are  absolutely  alike.  Sometimes  we  come 
pretty  near  it,  though. 

A  chemist  mixes  certain  chemicals.  He  knows  the 
chemicals  by  certain  characteristics.  He  confidently 
predicts  the  result  because  he  has  mixed  the  identical 
kinds  of  chemicals  in  the  identical  way  before,  and  he 
is  sure  of  the  uniformity  of  Nature :  that  she  will  re- 
spond to-day  exactly  as  she  did  yesterday  to  the  same 
experimental  question. 


Reasoning  65 

Knowledge  based  on  Authority. — Much  of  our  knowl- 

edge  is  based  on  authority.  A  small  percentage  of 
what  we  know  is  based  on  our  own  experience  or  reason- 
ing. We  have  been  told  so,  hence  we  know.  Thus  my 
"knowledge"  of  Africa  is  wholly  based  on  faith  in 
human  authority.  All  I  know  of  what  happened  before 
I  was  born  and  most  of  what  I  know  of  what  has 
happened  after  I  was  born  I  know  on  human  authority. 
Most  of  what  we  know,  we  know  on  what  lawyers  call 
"  hearsay  evidence." 

Our  belief  in  authority  is  based  ultimately  on  an 
induction.  We  notice  that  the  vastly  greater  number 
of  assertions  which  we  have  had  a  chance  to  test,  made 
by  accepted  texts  and  encyclopedias,  have  turned  out 
to  be  true;  hence  we  infer  that  such  authority  may 
be  trusted  in  this  case.  But  the  case  is  usually  more 
complex.  The  fact  that  other  people  with  more  ex- 
perience than  ourselves  recognize  certain  authority, 
makes  us  accept  it.  Thus  the  average  scholar  takes 
the  statements  in  his  textbooks  entirely  on  authority. 

Knowledge  based  on  Faith.  —  Only  through  experi- 
ence do  we  gain  knowledge;  but  there  is  some  knowl- 
edge which  we  did  not  gain  directly  from  experience. 
Thus  I  know  that  the  whole  of  anything  is  equal  to 
all  its  parts,  that  the  same  object  cannot  be  in  two 
places  at  the  same  time,  that  it  is  impossible  to  con- 
ceive space  as  limited,  and  all  other  axioms,  to  be  true 
without  depending  on  experience.  Of  course  I  could 
not  have  these  ideas  or  any  other  ideas,  if  I  had  not 
had  experience.  But  as  soon  as  I  begin  to  perceive 
and  think,  I  know  that  these  self-evident  truths  are 
true,  without  any  testimony  from  experience. 


66  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Some  thinkers  claim,  however,  that  this  seemingly 
immediate  knowledge  of  ours  is  the  result  of  the  ex- 
perience of  our  ancestors.  Thus  our  assumption  that 
every  effect  must  have  a  cause,  is  said  to  be  based  on 
the  universal  experience  of  the  race  in  the  past.  This 
reasoning  is,  however,  based  on  a  misconception  of  the 
nature  of  our  a  priori  or  self-evident  knowledge.  It 
is  not  that  we  simply  naturally  assume  a  certain  prop- 
osition to  be  true ;  it  is  more :  we  cannot  conceive 
anything  different  to  be  true,  and  we  see  directly  that 
the  proposition  must  be  true.  Besides,  in  many  cases, 
experience  cannot  possibly  teach  these  truths. 

Take  the  axiom  last  referred  to :  Every  effect  must 
have  a  cause.  This  cannot  be  verified  by  experiment 
without  using  the  most  refined  scientific  instruments 
and  methods.  Experience  seems  in  fact  to  teach  just 
the  opposite.  Trees  shoot  up  from  the  ground,  as  if 
by  magic,  and  no  visible  or  tangible  cause  can  be  found. 
The  wind  bloweth  whither  it  listeth  and  we  know  not 
whence  it  cometh.  In  fact,  we  can  never  in  ordinary 
experience  trace  the  chain  of  cause  and  effect  more 
than  a  link  or  two,  and  often  not  even  that.  And  still, 
as  soon  as  a  human  mind  really  knows  what  is  meant, 
it  will  always  assent  to  this  proposition.  Yet  few  un- 
educated persons  recognize  the  truth  of  this  axiom 
when  it  is  mixed  in  daily  experience.  Thus  countless 
lives  have  been  spent  in  seeking  for  "  perpetual  mo- 
tion " ;  and  inexplicable  events  are  dismissed  from 
discussion  as  having  "  just  happened."  But  as 
soon  as  such  a  person  clearly  sees  the  implication 
of  the  statement  of  the  law  of  cause  and  effect, 
he  at  once  assents  to  it. 


Reasoning  67 

Or,  take  another  axiom  just  mentioned :  The  same 
object  cannot  be  in  two  places  at  once.  Experience  is 
wholly  against  this  axiom.  In  hundreds  of  classes  of 
objects  the  individual  objects  are  so  similar  that  it  is 
impossible  to  tell  one  object  from  another.  In  a  bushel 
of  peas,  why  don't  we  assume  there  is  only  one  pea  ap- 
pearing in  a  thousand  places  at  the  same  time  ?  When 
twins  are  so  exactly  alike  that  one  cannot  be  told  from 
the  other,  why  don't  we  assume  there  is  only  one  person 
who  exists  at  once  in  two  places  ?  So,  I  think  it  is  safe 
to  assert  that  we  know  some  things  to  be  true  because 
of  the  very  nature  of  the  mind. 

But  evidently  even  here  we  must  base  our  knowledge 
on  faith,  faith  in  the  integrity  of  our  intellect.  It  is 
conceivable  that  our  minds  might  all  be  insane  on  some 
point,  and  hence  it  would  be  impossible  for  us  to  de- 
tect our  error. 

Knowledge  gained  from  experience  is  also  based  on 
faith.  Experience  is  always  gained  through  the  senses, 
and  is  reduced  to  knowledge  by  the  process  known  as 
perception,  and  preserved  by  memory.  Hence,  we 
must  trust  our  senses  and  our  memory  in  every  case 
where  we  rely  on  experience.  Witness  saw  defendant 
strike  plaintiff;  he  is  sure  of  it.  Now  his  certainty 
is  based  on :  (a)  his  faith  in  his  sense  of  sight  and  his 
perception  (it  might  be  an  hallucination),  and  (6)  his 
faith  in  his  own  memory. 

Laws  or  principles  may  then  become  ours  in  two  ways. 
Either  we  gain  them  by  inductions  from  experience,  or 
they  are  simply  awakened  in  us  by  experience  and  then 
elaborated  or  deduced.  The  latter  are  what  we  call 
self-evident  truths.  Thus  the  law  of  gravitation  was 


68  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

induced  from  experience,  while  it  is  quite  possible 
that  the  law  of  falling  bodies  was  evolved  from  reason 
alone.  The  arbitrary  fact,  however,  that  if  a  body 
falls  16  feet  the  first  second,  its  speed  must  be  32 
feet  per  second  at  the  end  of  first  second,  we  need  no 
experiment  to  know.  The  body  began  with  no  speed 
at  the  beginning  of  first  second.  It  passed  over  16 
feet  acted  on  by  a  constant  force.  Hence  16  feet 
per  second  must  be  the  average  speed,  and  the  other 
extreme  to  0  speed  must  be  2  x  16  feet  or  32  feet  per 
second. 

Thus  all  geometry,  and  much  of  other  mathematics, 
is  deduced  entirely  from  the  axioms  awakened  by 
experience  in  the  mind.  Much  of  physics  is  a  priori 
deduction. 

All  pure  mathematics  is  based  on  laws  of  conscious- 
ness alone,  as  mathematics  is  the  science  of  time  and 
space  as  we  conceive  them. 

DEDUCTIVE  REASONING 

From  the  law,  the  principle,  we  can  descend  the  logi- 
cal ladder  to  the  fact,  the  instance;  from  the  general 
we  can  arrive  at  the  particular,  thus  reversing  the 
process  of  induction.  Deductive  reasoning,  hence,  con- 
sists simply  in  recognizing  a  part  of  a  concept  as  a  part. 

The  Syllogism.  —  The  explicit  form  of  reasoning  is 
the  classical  syllogism,  of  which  there  are  four  funda- 
mental types.  Of  these  four  forms  the  following  may 
be  considered  basic :  — 

Water  expands  when  it  freezes. 

The  liquid  in  this  glass  is  water. 

Hence  the  liquid  in  this  glass  will  expand  when  it  freezes. 


Reasoning  69 

The   logical   relations   may   be   expressed    by   the 
diagram  shown  below:  — 


B  is  (in)  C  (Major  premise). 
A  is  (in)  B  (Minor  premise). 
Hence  A  is  (in)  C  (Conclusion). 


The  first  sentence  is  called  the  major  premise;  the 
second  the  minor  premise;  the  third  the  conclusion. 
Now  the  predicate  of  the  major  premise,  expanding 
when  freezing,  has  the  greatest  extension,  and  includes 
the  subject,  water,  which  is  also  the  predicate  of  the 
minor  premise.  Hence  the  subject  of  the  minor  prem- 
ise and  of  the  conclusion,  the  liquid  in  this  glass,  is  a 
fortiori  included  in  that  which  includes  its  predicate, 
water. 

PEDAGOGY   OF  REASONING 

Logical  Relations.  —  Reasoning  consists  in  perceiv- 
ing the  relations  of  ideas  to  one  another.  Hence  put 
all  your  attention  on  the  logical  relations.  The  facts 
will  take  care  of  themselves.  To  be  exact,  the  fact  is 
nothing  more  nor  less  than  a  center  of  logical  relations, 
just  as  modern  physics  is  inclined  to  view  the  atom, 
the  unit  of  matter,  as  simply  a  center  of  forces.  In 
studying  a  battle,  for  example,  don't  clog  up  your  mind 
with  "  60,000  men,  no  cavalry,  6  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing, bombardment,  charge,  retreat  ten  miles  on  north 
road, ' '  and  the  like.  These  facts,  thought  of  as  mere  facts, 


70  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

will  remain  barren  and  cold  in  the  mind,  as  so  much 
lumber.  Instead  ask  yourself :  "  Why  60,000  men  ?  He 
could  get  no  more,  as  of  the  army  of  200,000  enlisted, 
only  75  per  cent  were  effective,  and  of  these  150,000, 
50,000  were  too  far  away  to  reach  the  commander  and 
40,000  had  to  be  left  guarding  the  route  to  the  base  of 
supply.  The  enemy  were  estimated  at  only  half  of 
this  number,  but  the  enemy  fought  on  the  defensive 
and  in  their  own  country ;  hence  conditions  were  fairly 
equal."  Similarly:  "  Why  had  he  no  cavalry  ?  Would  he 
have  been  benefited  by  exchanging  10,000  infantry  for 
10,000  cavalry?  Why  did  he  attack  at  6  A.M.  Was 
this  a  mistake?  "  In  this  way  study  becomes  reason- 
ing ;  in  this  way  we  learn  to  think. 

Application  of  Laws  to  Particular  Facts.  —  Never 
be_-satisfied  with  your  own  or  your  pupils'  knowledge  of 
principles  or  laws  until  you  have  applied  them  to  con- 
crete examples  and  particular  facts.  This  is  the  main 
reason  for  the  existence  of  laboratories  and  experiments. 
A  student  does  not  know  what  oxygen  is  until  he  has 
generated  it,  experimented  with  it,  stuck  glowing  splin- 
ters into  it,  and  noticed  how  they  have  suddenly  flared 
into  flame.  A  psychological  principle,  like  the  one 
we  just  now  discussed,  was  not  understood  by  you 
half  so  well  before  you  read  these  illustrations,  and  you 
will  understand  it  better  still  when  you  have  studied 
the  problems  and  examples  at  the  end  of  the  chapter. 

Sympathy  as  an  Aid  to  Understanding.  —  Get  into 
sympathy  with  your  subject ;  for  contrary  to  the  antique 
slander,  love  is  not  blind,  love  is  the  very  eye  of  the 
soul.  No  study,  from  botany  to  theology,  can  be  studied 
right,  until  we  love  it.  No  student  does  his  best  until 


Reasoning  71 

he  loves  his  study.  It  is  not  because  he  will  not,  as 
teachers  so  often  claim.  He  can  not. 

Intellectual  Honesty.  —  While  we  must  have  sym- 
pathy as  an  asset  to  right  thinking,  we  should  at  the 
same  time  be  careful  lest  our  sympathies  stand  in  the 
way  of  intellectual  honesty.  How  few  fathers  can 
judge  fairly  between  the  characters  and  deeds  of  their 
own  darlings  and  those  of  the  neighbors'  "  brats." 
If  our  own  family,  or  party,  or  church,  or  nation  makes 
a  mistake,  it  is  very  venial,  a  mere  bagatelle,  not  worth 
mentioning ;  while  if  the  blunder  belongs  to  the  other 
side,  it  is  a  scandal,  a  crime,  a  sure  indication  that  the 
whole  institution  is  rotten. 

Now,  the  cure  isn't  to  have  less  sympathy,  it  is  to 
have  more,  and  more  catholic  sympathy.  We  should 
be  less  selfish,  and  that  means  not  to  love  self  less, 
but  the  other  -fellow  more.  A  broader  view,  less 
provincial  and  more  balanced,  is  the  right  prescription. 

We  need  perspective  in  our  thinking.  If  we  might 
stand  away  some  distance  from  ourselves  so  as  "  to  see 
oursePs  as  ithers  see  us ;  it  wad  frae  monie  a  blunder 
free  us." 

"  Original  "  Thought.  —  Many  teachers  imagine  that 
in  "  development  "  lessons  and  in  the  laboratory  they 
make  their  pupils  original,  pioneer  thinkers  on  a  wide 
range  of  subjects.  This  is  too  high  praise.  They 
make  them  simply  thinkers.  The  chances  are  that 
before  the  subject  was  developed,  before  he  experi- 
mented, the  pupil  had  no  conception  at  all  that  was 
even  passably  satisfactory.  The  conception  he  gets 
now  is  not  original  by  any  means.  It  comes  straight 
from  the  teacher,  the  text,  and  the  experiment.  But 


72          Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

then,  most  of  our  thought,  our  steady  diet  of  thought,  is 
copied  thought.  This  following  in  the  footsteps  of 
another  thinker  is  no  mean  art,  and  is  one  in  which  we 
should  become  experts.  It  is  the  most  useful  kind  of 
thinking,  so  let  us  not  despise  it. 

Original  thinking  is  a  dangerous  and  difficult  art, 
and  usually  barren  of  useful  results.  Hence  few  at- 
tempt it.  Still,  as  a  bracing  exercise,  and  as  a  moral 
stimulant,  it  should  be  encouraged. 

SUMMARY  OF  STAGES  OF  MENTAL  ACTIVITY 

The  stages  of  mental  activity  may  be  thus  classi- 
fied:— 

A.  The  Fundamental  Basal  Stages 

ACTIVITY  PRODUCT 

1.  Perception  Percept 

2.  Memory  Image 

3.  Imagination  Image 

B.  The  Complex  Developed  Stages 

ACTIVITY  PRODUCT 

1.  Conception  Concept  =  a  unity  of  notions,  or 

attributes 

2.  Judgment= explicit  conception    Judgment=&  union  of  two  con- 

cepts to  form  a  new  concept 

3.  Reasoning = explicit  judgment    Syllogism,  Chain  of  Reasoning =& 

union  of  judgments  to  form  a 
new  judgment 


Reasoning  73 

Exercises 

What  is  wrong  in  each  of  the  three  following  problems  ? 

1.  A  certain  gardener,  ninety  years  of  age,  was  congratulated 
on  his  birthday  in  May,  and  wished  many  returns  of  the  day. 
He  responded  that  he  felt  sure  he  would  at  least  see  another 
New  Year,  "  for,"  said  he,  "  I  have  noticed  in  the  garden  that  if 
anything  lives  over  the  month  of  March,  it  is  sure  to  live  the  rest 
of  the  year." 

2.  No  cat  has  four  tails. 
This  dog  is  no  cat. 
Hence  he  has  four  tails. 

3.  All  lions  are  animals. 
All  lambs  are  animals. 
Hence  all  lions  are  lambs. 

4.  A  person  who  had  never  told  a  truth  in  his  life  said,  "I 
never  tell  the  truth."     Was  he  then  speaking  the  truth? 

5.  What  is  the  best  way  of  teaching  what  is  meant  by  an 
object's  being  a  good  conductor  of  heat? 

6.  What  is  the  best  way  of  teaching  what  is  meant  by  "  the 
state  legislature  "  ? 

7.  In  determining  the  botanical  name  and  classification  of  a 
plant,  what  kind  or  kinds  of  reasoning  do  you  use  ? 


CHAPTER  VIII 

HOW  WE  THINK:   ATTENTION 
THREE  PHASES  OF  THE  KNOWLEDGE-MAKING  ACTIVITY 

WE  may  discuss  the  intellect  both  from  the  stand- 
point of  the  activity  that  produces  knowledge  and  from 
the  standpoint  of  the  product. 

In  the  previous  discussion  we  have  taken  up  the 
stages  of  knowledge.  We  are  now  ready  to  study  the 
knowledge-making  activity  of  the  mind,  or,  as  it  might 
also  appropriately  be  called,  the  art  of  thinking. 

We  shall  find  a  surprising  similarity  in  the  activity 
of  the  mind  in  every  stage  of  knowledge.  Reduced 
to  its  elements,  the  behavior  of  the  mind  does  not  differ 
much  when  it  reasons  from  its  activity  when  it  per- 
ceives. Here  again  we  find  that  we  cannot  divide  the 
subject  into  parts,  but  we  can  find  distinct  aspects  of 
the  intellectual  activity.  These  are- — 

Attention; 

Analysis  and  Comparison; 

Association,  or  Synthesis. 

In  this  chapter,  we  will  turn  to  that  phase  of  the 
mind's  activity  which  we  call  attention. 

MEANING   OF  TERM  "ATTENTION" 

Earlier  in  this  book  we  compared  consciousness  to 
the  field  of  vision,  which  consists  of  a  clear  and  distinct 

74 


How  We  Think:  Attention  75 

center  surrounded  by  a  field  which  gradually  decreases 
in  clarity  and  definiteness,  until  it  finally  vanishes  in 
a  "fringe"  of  obscurity  and  confusion. 

Consciousness,  however,  has  a  power  which  the  eye 
has  not.  It  can  vary  the  degree  of  its  concentration. 
When  we  so  will  we  can  withdraw  the  energy  of  con- 
sciousness from  the  periphery  of  the  field  of  conscious- 
ness and  center  our  mind  narrowly  on  the  focus.  This 
renders  the  circle  of  distinct  consciousness  smaller, 
but  it  becomes  in  proportion  more  vivid.  We  call 
such  an  effort  a  concentration  of  attention. 

Attention,  then,  is  the  centering  of  consciousness  on 
a  portion  of  its  contents.  As  Professor  James  says,  one 
of  the  elementary  characteristics  of  consciousness  is 
its  partiality  for  certain  parts  of  itself.  The  vaster 
portion  of  the  mind  is  in  the  shadows  of  the  twilight 
which  ranges  from  nearly  complete  consciousness  to  a 
profound  darkness  that  we  cannot  distinguish  from 
the  absolute  night  of  unconsciousness.  This  twilight 
zone  is  called  subconsciousness.  Whtn  the  mind  is 
hard  at  work,  attention  sharpens  to  a  fine  point,  and 
we  think  vividly  of  a  small  range  of  topics,  and  almost 
not  at  all  of  neighboring  fields  of  thought.  When 
the  mind  rests,  it  "  flattens  out,"  and  spreads  itself 
over  a  larger  area,  but  as  the  light  of  thought  is  dif- 
fused over  so  wide  a  territory,  the  whole  field  is  in  an 
intellectual  penumbra,  and  nothing  distinct  is  before  the 
mind.  The  diagrams  on  page  76  illustrate  this. 

The  following  diagrams  also  illustrate  the  difference 
between  the  idiot's  mind  and  the  genius'  mind.  The 
main  difference  among  minds  intellectually  is  differ- 
ence in  power  of  concentration.  Carlyle's  definition 


76  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

of  genius  as  "an  infinite  capacity  for  taking  pains  " 
is  literally  correct;  and  translated  into  the  language 
of  psychology  it  would  read  as  follows  :  an  ability  for 
extraordinary  concentration  of  attention.  Only  by 
concentrating  the  mind  can  we  be  painstaking. 


CONCENTRATED  ATTENTION  DIFFUSED  ATTENTION 

Thought  training,  then,  is  mainly  an  education  of 
attention,  for  he  who  can  concentrate  his  attention  at 
will  can  do  all  with  his  intellect  that  it  ^is  capable  of 
being  trained  to  do.  He  is  intellectually  trained. 

CHARACTERISTICS  OF  ATTENTION 

(a)  The  field  of  attention  shades  off  gradually  into 
that  of  subconsciousness.  This  will  be  discussed  more 
fully  in  the  chapter  on  subconsciousness. 

(6)  Attention  is  constantly  moving.  It  is  impossible 
to  keep  on  thinking  of  precisely  the  same  idea  for  any 
appreciable  length  of  time.  You  will  find  that  as  soon 
as  you  decide  to  think  of  one  subject  and  of  one  alone 
and  only  one  phase  of  that  subject,  you  straightway 
begin  to  think  about  the  subject.  That  means  around 
it.  The  attempt  to  fix  the  attention  on  one  object  and 


How  We  Think:  Attention  77 

not  allow  it  to  move  will,  if  continued  long  enough, 
bring  on  hypnotic  sleep.  The  reason  why  a  genius 
can  attend  so  intently  for  a  long  time  to  a  topic  of 
thought  is,  as  Professor  James  says,  because  in  his 
mind  the  topic  is  constantly  developing,  showing  new 
sides,  details,  and  consequences,  while  the  idiot  cannot 
fix  his  thoughts  on  anything,  because  in  his  mind  the 
idea  is  sterile,  and  remains  the  same.  Hence,  as  his 
attention  cannot  rest,  it  must  abandon  this  idea  for 
another. 

(1)  Attention  moves  in  pulses,  waves,  periods.  This 
follows  from  what  has  been  said.  Hence  our  atten- 
tion does  not  move  like  a  boat  or  horse,  in  a  constant 
and  evenly  rapid  motion,  but  in  leaps  and  bounds  of 
uneven  length. 

As  a  corollary  to  (1)  we  deduce  (2)  that  Attention 
varies  constantly  in  intensity.  We  do  not  think  with 
the  same  intensity  for  two  consecutive  minutes. 

How  does  the  student  work,  for  example,  in  solving 
a  problem  in  algebra  ?  He  adopts  a  certain  hypothesis, 
and  then  concentrates  his  attention  with  all  his  might 
on  the  problem  in  applying  this  hypothesis.  ~He 
brings  all  the  factors  of  the  problem  together  in  the 
limelight  of  his  concentrated  attention,  only  to  find 
that  his  hypothesis  is  untrue.  Then  he  relaxes,  for 
a  moment  at  least,  and  casts  about  leisurely  for  another 
hypothesis.  A  lecture  in  which  everything  is  equally 
emphatic  and  in  which  therefore  an  equally  pitched 
attention  is  required,  is  hard  to  follow.  Attention 
refuses  to  be  an  ever  constant  stream.  The  orator, 
therefore,  gives  relief  to  his  presentation  by  having 
his  emphatic  passages  separated  by  lighter  material 


78  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

that  does  not  demand  so  close  attention.  Attention 
is  never  sharpened  up  to  its  finest  point  for  more  than 
a  few  seconds  at  a  tune.  Then  it  relaxes,  the  mind 
"  flattens  out,"  and  rests.  Thus  our  attention  works 
in  pulses  or  beats,  like  the  heart,  or  the  respiratory 
organs.  The  two  motions  of  attention  —  its  varying 
intensity  and  its  movement  over  its  object  —  are 
combined  so  as  to  make  the  intensity  greatest  when 
the  movement  over  the  object  is  slowest. 

This  varying  intensity  of  attention  has  brought 
about  the  division  of  time  into  certain  periods.  We 
have  the  diurnal  wave  or  period,  which  consists  of  a 
day  and  a  night.  During  our  waking  hours,  our  atten- 
tion is  at  least  in  some  measure  concentrated.  Psy- 
chologically, sleep  is  the  total  or  practical  absence  of 
attention.  Dreams  are  very  imperfect  and  abortive 
attempts  to  center  the  attention  during  sleep.  In 
sleep  our  whole  being  sinks  into  subconsciousness. 
When  we  awake,  we  concentrate  our  mental  powers. 
"  We  pull  ourselves  together,"  literally  and  begin 
again  to  attend. 

Usually  we  divide  the  day  into  three  long  periods  of 
attention,  separated  by  rests :  forenoon,  afternoon, 
evening,  separated  by  meals  and  the  nightly  rest.  These 
three  periods  may  be  called  the  session  periods,  if  a 
name  must  be  attached. 

The  length  of  time  the  mind  is  engaged  in  thought 
in  the  same  general  direction  is  the  next  period.  In 
school  work  this  may  be  called  the  recitation,  lecture,  or 
study  period. 

(3)  Attention  tends  to  move  rhythmically.  Do  not 
confuse  this  with  (1).  Attention  always  moves  in 


How  We  Think:  Attention  79 

pulses  or  waves,  but  it  does  not  always  move  rhythmi- 
cally. Not  all  periodicity  is  rhythmic,  for  rhythm 
consists  in  regularly  recurring  series  of  pulses.  It  is 
a  marked  characteristic  of  the  mind  that  it  prefers 
to  act  rhythmically. 

This  is  the  reason  why  poetry  is  more  pleasing  than 
prose,  and  is  the  essential  charm  of  marching  and  danc- 
ing. Here  is  where  doggerel  gets  its  great  vitality. 
This  is  the  reason  that  children  so  easily  fall  into  the 
singsong  habit  in  reading.  Thus  the  mind  will  put  a 
rhythm  into  regular  successions  of  sound,  even  when  the 
rhythm  is  wanting  or  when  this  rhythm  is  too  monot- 
onous, as  in  the  ticking  of  a  clock  or  the  click  of  the 
wheels  of  a  railroad  car.  These  may  with  a  little  imag- 
ination be  made  to  recite  poetry,  sing  tunes,  and  repeat 
rhymes. 

HOW  THE  MIND  ACTS  IN  ATTENTION 

So  much  for  the  movements  of  attention.  After 
the  mind  is  once  concentrated  upon  the  chosen  portion 
of  the  contents  of  consciousness,  what  then? 

First,  remember  the  mind  is  never  passive;  it  is 
always  essentially  active.  The  mind  paints  the  pic- 
tures we  see,  makes  the  music  we  hear,  and  produces 
impressions  and  feeling,  just  as  certainly  as  the  mind 
makes  its  own  judgments  and  syllogisms. 

When  now  the  attention  is  centered  upon  any  por- 
tion of  the  contents  of  consciousness,  it  acts  at  once  as 
a  solvent  and  a  cohesive.  The  mind  picks  apart  and 
puts  together  again.  It  analyzes,  compares,  and  asso- 
ciates. What  it  does,  depends  on  the  store  of  knowl- 
edge at  its  command. 


80  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

This  analysis,  comparison,  and  synthesis  is  done  ac- 
cording to  the  laws  of  the  mind,  which  laws  are  also 
the  laws  of  the  universe.  The  result  is  thought,  and 
if  the  mind  is  normal  and  follows  its  own  laws,  knowl- 
edge. The  work  of  the  mind  corresponds  to  the  truth 
as  it  is  in  the  universe. 

KINDS  OF  ATTENTION 

The  practically  important  division  of  attention  is 
into  involuntary  or  spontaneous  attention  and  voluntary 
attention. 

Involuntary.  —  Involuntary  or  spontaneous  atten- 
tion is  the  attention  which  comes  as  the  reaction  of 
the  mind  to  certain  stimuli.  In  studying  sensation 
we  find  that  the  mind  is  so  constructed  that  spe- 
cific stimuli  are  answered  by  the  mind  by  specific 
reactions.  A  stimulus,  whether  it  be  an  external  stim- 
ulus or  a  suggestion,  awakens  some  impulse  or  desire. 
As  soon  as  this  happens,  our  whole  soul  flows  to  this 
point,  we  attend  to  it.  A  famished  person  in  the 
presence  of  food  concentrates  involuntarily  his  whole 
consciousness  on  food  getting.  A  mother,  caring  for 
her  child,  will  find  her  attention  centered  on  that 
child  without  any  effort  of  thought.  The  next  mo- 
ment after  making  acquaintance  with  the  wrong  end  of 
a  hornet,  it  seems  to  us  as  if  our  whole  being  were  in 
that  sting,  and  doubled  up  in  pain  at  that.  The  motive 
(instinct  or  desire)  has  in  this  relation  generally  been 
called  interest,  and  shall  be  so  denominated  here.  Reflex 
or  involuntary  attention,  then,  depends  on  interest. 

Voluntary.  —  The  second  kind  of  attention  is  a 
direct  product  of  the  will.  Man  has  the  power  to 


'  How  We  Think:  Attention  81 

concentrate  his  mind  by  sheer  effort  on  that  which  is 
not  interesting.  We  may  hence  say  that  voluntary 
attention  depends  on  effort. 

How  the  Mind  economizes  Voluntary  Attention. — Vol- 
untary attention  is  exceedingly  expensive ;  spon- 
taneous attention  costs  nothing.  Hence  we  have 
learned  to  get  along  with  very  little  of  the  expensive 
kind.  Just  as  for  many  purposes  gold  plating  is  just 
as  good  as  solid  gold,  so  here  with  the  precious  metal 
of  the  mind.  For  instance,  I  would  rather  gossip  with 
my  neighbor  than  study  to-night.  If  I  obeyed  the 
spontaneous  impulse,  gossiping  is  what  I  would  do. 
But  I  inhibit  the  expression  of  this  impulse,  and  by 
sheer  effort  direct  my  attention  to  my  lessons.  I  force 
myself  to  read  the  first  lines  and  to  think  upon  what  I 
read.  This  is  hard  work,  but  it  can  be  done.  Not 
for  a  very  long  time,  however.  Few  people  could 
stand  the  struggle  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  an  hour. 
But  happily,  I  soon  get  interested  in  my  lessons.  This 
means  that  some  ideas  I  have  forced  myself  to  gather 
from  the  book  have  acted  as  a  stimulus  to  my  intel- 
lectual interest  (we  call  it  curiosity  when  directed  to 
trivial  things).  Now  I  no  longer  need  to  use  volun- 
tary attention.  My  interest  supplies  me  with  reflex 
attention.  Then  if  I  am  a  well-conditioned  student  I 
will  run  like  a  self-igniting  engine,  one  that  produces 
the  stimulus  that  sets  it  to  work. 

Spontaneous  or  involuntary  attention  is  the  iron  of 
the  mind.  It  is  the  material  that  is  used  in  great 
quantities  in  every  conceivable  need.  It  is  plentiful 
and  cheap,  and  "  fills  the  bill."  Voluntary  attention 
is^the  gold  of  the  mind.  It  is  very  expensive  and  is 


82  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

seldom  used,  but  when  we  want  it  we  must  have  it, 
for  there  is  nothing  that  can  take  its  place. 

INTEREST 

Important  Laws  of  Interest.  —  Interest  is  the  atten- 
tion-compelling element  of  instincts  and  desires.  More 
especially  it  is  the  intellectual  and  aesthetic  interests 
with  which  we  are  here  concerned.  Some  of  the 
practically  important  laws  of  interest  are  the  fol- 
lowing:— 

(a)  We  have  no  intellectual  interest  in  that  which  we 
know  perfectly.  After  a  teacher  has  gone  over  the 
elements  of  a  subject  until  he  is  perfectly  familiar  with 
them,  this  elementary  aspect  of  the  subject  has  no 
particular  attraction  for  him.  Nor  have  we  any  in- 
terest in  that  which  is  perfectly  unknown  to  us.  We  do 
not  care  to  listen  long  to  a  language  that  is  totally 
unknown  to  us.  But  we  are  interested  in  that  which 
is  partly  known  and  partly  unknown.  All  our  intel- 
lectual interests  are  in  this  twilight  zone. 

(6)  We  all  have  a  more  or  less  well-defined  sphere  of 
interests.  In  order  to  be  interesting,  a  subject  must  be 
brought  within  this  sphere.  In  other  words,  it  must  be 
brought  into  relation  with  us.  Thus,  children  are  more 
interested  in  child  life  than  in  adult  life;  a  merchant 
is  more  interested  in  market  quotations  than  is  a 
clergyman,  even  when  the  merchant  is  not  contem- 
plating buying  anything. 

(c)  Interest  in  a  thing  is  not  to  be  confounded  with 
delight  in  a  thing.  If  when  groping  around  for  a  match 
in  the  still  watches  of  the  night,  you  step  on  a  tack 
whose  point  is  up,  you  become  suddenly  filled  with  an 


How  We  Think:  Attention  83 

absorbing  interest  in  the  tack ;  but  you  certainly  do  not 
delight  in  it. 

Pleasant  interest  is  more  economical  as  a  motor 
force  for  attention.  If  pleased  as  well  as  interested,  a 
person  can  do  several  times  as  much  work,  both  mental 
and  muscular,  without  fatigue,  as  is  possible  if  the 
work  is  accompanied  by  fear  or  disgust.  This  is  one 
strong  reason  why  we  should  make  our  pupils  like 
their  work.  This  is  also  the  reason  why  natural  in- 
terest is  better  than  artificial.  When  a  pupil  studies 
from  fear  of  punishment  or  from  desire  for  reward,  he 
generally  dislikes  his  work;  and  this  disgust  with  his 
work  is  a  constant  and  heavy  drain  on  his  energies. 
There  is  sound  psychology  in  the  slang  phrase  we  use 
to  express  contempt  and  disgust :  "It  makes  me 
tired." 

(d)  The  mind  is  bound  to  be  busy  with  something,  as 
long  as  it  is  in  a  waking  condition.  Hence,  we  can 
interest  ourselves  in  almost  anything  by  shutting  off  all 
more  attractive  stimuli.  This  is  the  fundamental  prin- 
ciple applied  by  the  schoolmaster  since  time  immemo- 
rial. This  principle  every  one  must  apply  who  would 
accomplish  some  serious  study.  He  must  by  using 
voluntary  attention  resolutely  shut  off  all  alluring 
excursions  of  the  mind  into  what  temporarily  appear 
to  be  more  attractive  regions. 

THE  PEDAGOGY  OF  ATTENTION 

Alternation  of  the  Important  and  Unimportant.  — 
From  the  laws  of  attention  just  stated  we  gather  that 
to  gain  best  results  in  attention,  there  must  be  relief 
and  perspective  in  presentation.  Monotony  is  the  great 


84  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

enemy  of  attention.  To  secure  attention,  alternate 
the  important  and  the  unimportant.  If  you  attempt 
to  make  everything  striking,  nothing  will  strike. 

Value  of  arousing  Interest  at  Beginning  of  Work.  — 
At  the  beginning  of  a  recitation,  session  of  school, 
lecture,  book,  article,  or  drama,  the  listener  or  reader 
is  usually  interested  in  something  else,  and  entirely 
ignorant  and  uninterested  in  what  is  to  come.  Hence 
at  the  beginning  of  any  period  of  attention,  the  subject 
should  be  made  as  interesting  as  possible.  Notice  the 
alluring  way  in  which  novelists  begin.  Almost  every 
political  orator  begins  with  a  story  alleged  to  be  funny. 
The  teacher  should  try  to  start  every  recitation  with 
something  more  than  ordinarily  interesting.  This  is 
done  in  order  to  make  voluntary  attention  unnecessary 
and  to  substitute  spontaneous  attention.  This  is 
one  important  reason  for  "  opening  exercises,"  and 
this  defines  their  nature.  Opening  exercises  ought 
to  contain  something  the  pupil  can  do,  to  enlist  his 
interest  in  the  school.  Hence  the  value  of  singing,  best 
of  all,  motion  songs. 

The  Time  for  the  Hardest  Work.  —  As  soon  as  the 
pupil's  or  audience's  attention  is  "  caught,"  that  is,  as 
soon  as  voluntary  attention  gives  way  to  spontaneous 
attention,  give  the  hardest  and  least  interesting  work  of 
the  period.  The  pupil  is  rested  now.  He  has  more 
energy  now  than  he  will  have  during  any  later  time  in  the 
period.  Therefore,  put  your  hardest  work,  like  arith- 
metic, in  the  early  part  of  the  morning  session.  Ask 
your  test  questions  early  in  the  recitation. 

When  the  Work  should  be  made  Easier.  —  As  the 
pupils'  fund  of  energy  is  constantly  decreasing,  ease  up 


How  We  Think :  Attention  85 

the  work  as  the  hour  or  day  progresses,  and  if  possible 
increase  the  stimulus  of  interest.  Towards  the  end 
of  the  period  you  may  have  to  use  your  funny 
stories. 

Value  of  Closing  Exercises.  —  End  the  period  (reci- 
tation, address,  session,  day)  in  a  blaze  of  glory  and 
interest,  leave  a  good  taste  in  the  mouths  of  the  pupils 
for  the  next  recitation,  the  next  day  of  school.  For 
that  reason,  I  would  recommend  closing  exercises 
at  the  end  of  the  school  day.  A  scientific  experiment 
of  the  spectacular  sort,  a  story  read  by  the  teacher,  or 
a  song  sung  by  the  school,  are  good  varieties  of  closing 
exercises. 

Teaching  Pupils  the  Value  of  Powers  of  Attention.  — 
Acquaint  your  pupils  with  the  immense  value  you  place 
upon  the  power  of  attention.  Almost  the  whole  secret 
of  good  thinking  is  a  trained  power  of  attention.  As 
attention  is  one  aspect  of  the  whole  intellectual  activity, 
the  preceding  sentence  is  self-evident. 

Exercises  and  Illustrations 

i.  Think  of  a  pin's  head  for  one  minute.  Notice  how  long 
a  period  of  time  that  minute  seems.  Could  you  keep  your 
mind  on  the  subject  the  whole  time?  Did  it  ever  for  a  moment 
remain  on  one  portion  of  the  subject? 

'2.  This  story  is  told  of  two  Eastern  hermits  who  lived  to- 
gether. Basil  complained  that  he  could  not  keep  his  mind  on 
his  devotions,  that  worldly  thoughts  would  creep  in.  Cyril 
rebuked  him  for  being  so  weak.  Basil  felt  injured  and  said  that 
perhaps  even  brother  Cyril  might  find  it  hard,  if  he  observed 
himself  closely.  The  end  of  it  was  that  Basil  wagered  a  donkey 
that  Cyril  could  not  say  the  Lord's  prayer  without  allowing 
some  worldly  thoughts  to  intrude.  So  Cyril  began,  but  when 
he  came  to  the  fourth  petition,  he  stopped  and  confessed: 


86  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

"  Brother,  I  lost,  for  as  I  said  'Our  daily  bread,'  I  thought,  'I 
wonder  if  I  will  get  a  bridle  too  with  the  donkey." 

3.  If  you  "  skim  "  a  book,  why  do  you  skip  the  solid  pages 
and  read  the  ones  broken  into  small  paragraphs  and  conversa- 
tion? 

4.  Mark  Twain,  in  a  story,  makes  the  wheels  of  a  train 
say:  — 

"  Punch,  conductor,  oh,  punch  with  care,'— 
Punch  in  the  presence  of  the  passenjare, 
A  blue  trip  slip  for  a  five- cent  fare, 
A  buff  trip  slip  for  a  three-cent  fare, 
A  red  trip  slip  for  a  ten-cent  fare. 
Punch,  conductor,  oh,  punch  with  care, 
Punch  in  the  presence  of  the  passenjare." 

This  so  fastened  itself  to  the  mind  of  a  certain  man  that  he 
could  not  get  rid  of  it,  and  told  it  to  his  pastor.  The  pastor 
caught  it  and  found  himself  giving  it  out  as  a  hymn  at  a  funeral. 

5.  What  psychological  limit  is  there  to  the  proper  length 
of  the  paragraph? 


CHAPTER  IX 

HOW  WE  THINK:    ANALYSIS  AND  COMPARISON 
FUNCTION  OF  ANALYSIS  AND  COMPARISON 

IT  would  be  equally  correct  to  write  "  Analysis, 
or  Comparison,"  for  analysis  is  essentially  the  same 
as  comparison.  We  always  analyze  by  comparison. 
Thus,  in  abstracting  the  attribute  red  color  from  the 
concept  red  apple,  we  compare  a  red  apple  with,  say, 
a  green  one.  We  note  that  the  difference  is  one  of 
color,  and  individualize  the  color  red  by  comparing  it 
with  the  color  green. 

Attention  is  the  whole  knowledge-making  activity. 
Consciousness  concentrates,  we  have  learned,  on  some 
small  portion  of  its  contents.  What  does  the  mind 
(consciousness)  do  with  the  material  before  it?  In 
brief,  the  mind  makes  order  out  of  confusion,  a  cosmos 
out  of  chaos,  something  of  nothing-in-particular  and 
everything-in-general,  and  it  does  so  by  comparing  one 
sensation,  perception,  or  concept  with  another  and 
discriminating. 

Analysis.  —  Chronologically,  everything  is  done  at 
the  same  time, — comparison,  discrimination,  associa- 
tion, individualizing,  and  generalizing.  Each  one  of 
these  aspects  involves  all  the  rest.  But  logically, 
perhaps,  individualization  may  be  said  to  be  first. 
That  is,  whether  perceiving,  imaging,  judging,  or  rea- 

87 


88  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

soning,  the  mind  must  first  get  units  to  work  with. 
When  we  first  peer  into  a  distant  scene,  we  see  nothing 
but  a  confusion  of  patches  of  colors  and  shades.  We 
begin  to  perceive  by  making  out  a  tree  here  and  a  man 
there.  We  have  individualized  these  objects.  When 
we  try  to  solve  a  problem  in  algebra,  we  first  have  a 
chaos  of  mathematical  relations.  We  begin  to  see 
light  when  we  can  definitely  pin  down  one  mathematical 
idea,  and  say,  for  example,  let  x  equal  the  distance 
traveled  the  first  day. 

Now,  how  do  we  do  it  ?  It  is  by  analysis,  discrimina- 
tion. We  separate  that  idea  from  every  other  idea. 
We  center  our  attention  on  it,  and  withdraw  our  at- 
tention from  every  other  idea.  The  mind  acts  like  a 
cleaver.  It  makes  a  gash  between  this  idea  and  every 
other.  Watt  noticed  that  the  cover  on  his  aunt's 
teakettle  bobbed  up  and  down.  He  centered  his 
attention  on  this  bobbing  cover  and  escaping  steam 
and  singled  out  of  this  group  of  ideas,  as  most  signifi- 
cant, the  force  of  steam.  "  Steam  has  power  to  lift 
that  cover"  must  have  been  the  form  of  his  idea. 
This  idea  led  to  the  invention  of  the  steam  engine. 

How  Comparison  aids  Process  of  Analysis.  — But 
of  what  does  the  act  of  analysis  consist?  We  shall 
find  that  in  every  case  the  act  of  analysis  involves  an 
act  of  comparison.  I  notice  that  sugar  is  sweet.  I 
compare  the  sweet  taste  with  the  taste  that  just  pre- 
ceded it,  and  thus  it  gets  individuality.  When  a 
person  has  eaten  pancakes  and  sirup  he  cannot  taste 
the  sugar  in  his  coffee.  How  do  we  notice  the  moon 
in  the  sky  ?  By  comparing  the  bright  disk  of  the  moon 
with  the  darker  sky.  If  the  whole  sky  shone  as  brightly 


How  We  Think :  Analysis  and  Comparison     89 

as  the  moon,  we  could  not  see  the  moon  at  all,  or,  more 
precisely,  we  could  not  individualize  the  moon,  we 
could  not  discriminate  between  the  moon  and  the  rest 
of  the  field  of  vision. 

In  the  formation  of  concepts  we  call  this  analyzing 
activity  abstraction.  Thus,  in  order  to  add  the  attribute 
ferocious  to  the  concept  lion,  I  must  compare  the  ac- 
tion of  the  lion  with,  say,  the  lamb,  and  find  that  they 
differ.  This  comparison  makes  it  possible  for  me  to 
segregate  the  quality  ferocity  and  make  it  an  individual 
object  of  thought.  If  all  animals  were  ferocious  and 
all  ferocious  beings  animals,  it  is  quite  certain  that  I 
should  never  have  distinguished  between  being  an  animal 
and  being  ferocious,  because  I  should  have  had  no  chance 
of  making  a  revealing  comparison. 

PEDAGOGY  OP  ANALYSIS  AND  COMPARISON 

(a)  Limit  the  field  of  analysis  to  the  smallest  possible 
area.  This  is  the  fundamental  rule  for  successful 
analysis,  and  also  for  comparison.  The  naturalist 
uses  the  microscope.  The  lawyer  takes  up  his  oppo- 
nent's brief,  point  by  point.  The  critic  will  dwell 
fondly  on  a  comma  or  the  quantity  of  a  vowel.  The 
successful  mathematician  takes  up  his  problem,  bit 
by  bit,  and  largely  because  he  can  make  the  bits  so 
small,  is  he  so  successful. 

(6)  A  corollary  of  the  first  rule  is  the  following :  — 
Exclude  every  factor  and  element  from  attention  except 
the  two  under  consideration.  The  minimum  is  two; 
we  cannot  think  of  only  one  unit  of  thought.  There 
must  be  substance  and  attribute  in  the  concept,  sub- 
ject and  predicate  in  the  judgment,  premises  and  con- 


90  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

elusion  in  the  reasoning,  the  object  and  its  environment 
in  vision,  sound  and  silence  in  hearing,  and  motion  and 
rest  in  motor  ideas. 

(c)  Be  in  no  hurry  to  generalize.  —  Almost  every 
novice  in  thinking,  and  the  great  majority  of  those  who 
have  had  experience  and  ought  to  know  better,  will  gen- 
eralize from  the  first  bit  of  comparison,  the  first  streak  of 
analysis.  Most  hallucinations  of  the  senses  are  due 
to  this  tendency.  John,  late  in  the  park  at  night,  hears 
a  few  indistinct  words.  He  compares  these  sounds 
with  some  memories  of  words;  these  sounds  partly 
correspond  to  "  Money  or  your  life,"  and  his  subcon- 
scious mind,  which  does  the  hearing  for  him,  makes 
him  hear  the  words  "  Money  or  your  life  "  very  dis- 
tinctly ;  so  he  flees  in  terror  from  the  scene,  and  reports 
to  the  police  that  he  was  held  up  in  the  park.  Now  the 
truth  is  that  he  compared  and  discriminated  only  these 
sounds  :  — oney  — ife,  and  if  he  had  not  generalized 
so  abruptly,  he  might  have  found  that  on  the  other 
side  of  the  hedge  was  a  swain  kneeling  before  his  lady 
love,  entreating :  "  Honey,  be  my  wife." 

Exercises 

1.  When  a  tea  taster  tests  teas,  with  what  does  he  compare 
each  sample?     Notice  that  taste  of  sample  A  must  be  out  of 
his  mouth  before  he  can  taste  sample  B.     How  can  he  then 
compare  ? 

2.  In  counting  objects,  what  comes  under  the  head  of  com- 
parison and  analysis? 

3.  What  part  do  analysis  and  comparison  play  in  our  con- 
sciousness when  we  are  listening  to  a  quartet  singing  ? 

4.  The  famous  dervish  saw  that  the  impression  made  by  one 
foot  of  the  camel  was  always  much  fainter  than  those  of  the  others. 


How  We  Think :  Analysis  and  Comparison     91 

He  concluded  that  the  camel  was  lame  in  that  foot.     Show  his 
analysis. 

5.  Give  some  cases  of  analysis  and  comparison  from  novels. 

6.  Show  that  analysis,  comparison,  and  attention  are  all 
involved  in  the  same  mental  act. 

7.  What  act  of  analysis  do  we  perform  in  perceiving  a  sail  at 
the  horizon  at  sea  ? 

8.  In  scanning  a  line  of  poetry  show  what  acts  of  analysis  and 
comparison  we  perform. 

9.  In  the  following  selection  point  out  what  are  cases  of  analysis 
and  what  of  comparison : 

"  One  of  the  expensive  factors  in  the  production  of  cotton  was 
the  removing  of  the  seeds,  as  long  as  this  was  done  by  hand.  When 
the  cotton  gin  was  invented,  this  factor  became  so  small  compared 
to  what  it  had  been  before,  and  compared  to  the  value  of  the  cotton, 
that  it  was  almost  negligible.  Hence  cotton  became  a  paying  crop, 
and  a  staple  was  found  that  could  be  raised  by  slave  labor  at  great 
profit." 


CHAPTER  X 

HOW  WE  THINK:    ASSOCIATION,  OR 
SYNTHESIS 

THE  process  of  association  is  another  aspect  of  think- 
ing, or  the  knowledge-making  activity.  In  making 
knowledge,  the  mind  connects,  unites,  relates,  and 
organizes  its  contents.  This  integrating  process  is 
called  association.  It  is  the  synthetic  activity  of  the 
mind.  Care  should  be  taken  to  hold  fast  to  the  truth 
that  attention,  analysis,  comparison,  and  association 
are  but  different  aspects  of  one  mental  activity.  When 
the  mind  attends,  it  associates  and  discriminates. 

KINDS  OF  ASSOCIATION 

Logical  Association.  —  There  are  two  kinds  of  asso- 
ciation :  logical  and  mechanical.  In  most  concrete 
cases,  however,  the  two  varieties  are  mixed.  When- 
ever the  mind  sees  a  reason  why  any  pair  of  ideas  should 
be  associated,  we  may  call  the  association  logical. 
Thus,  cause  is  logically  associated  with  effect,  the  part 
with  the  whole,  the  purpose  with  the  means.  All  that 
is  necessary  is  that  the  mind  should  grasp  this  logical 
relation.  As  soon  as  the  mind  is  in  possession  of  this 
relation,  the  ideas  so  related  are  permanently  connected 
in  the  mind.  Thus,  tobacco  was  a  staple  export  in 
colonial  times,  and  had  a  practically  unlimited  market. 

92 


How  We  Think:  Association,  or  Synthesis      93 

Therefore,  it  paid  to  raise  tobacco  in  great  quantities ; 
hence  great  plantations.  Tobacco  culture  requires 
a  great  deal  of  simple  manual  labor.  This  was  fur- 
nished cheaply  by  the  negro  slaves.  Thus,  slavery 
was  profitable  in  the  tobacco  colonies.  Therefore  it 
survived  there.  This  chain  of  ideas  is  held  together 
in  the  mind  by  logical  relations.  All  that  is  necessary 
to  associate  this  series  of  ideas  is  for  the  mind  to  be 
clearly  cognizant  of  these  relations. 

Mechanical  Association.  —  The  second  kind  of  asso- 
ciation is  a  connection  of  ideas  in  the  mind  without 
reference  to  any  intrinsic  thought  relation.  Its  funda- 
mental law  may  be  stated  thus :  — 

When  two  ideas  come  contiguously  before  attention, 
they  become  associated.  Every  repetition  .of  contiguity 
strengthens  the  association. 

Contiguity  may  be  of  two  kinds :  simultaneous  and 
successive.  Thus,  if  we  think  simultaneously  of  Tom 
and  Dick,  Tom  and  Dick  will  be  associated  in  the  mind. 
This  is  simultaneous  contiguity.  But  if  we  repeat 
the  letters  in  the  alphabet  in  order  a  great  many  times, 
that  order  will  be  firmly  fixed  in  the  mind.  This  is 
successive  contiguity.  This  is  the  usual  statement  of 
the  case,  and  it  is  convenient  and  simple.  Under  a 
more  rigid  analysis  the  two  cases,  the  "  simultaneous  " 
and  the  "  successive,"  may  be  shown  to  be  identical. 
Whenever  two  ideas  occupy  the  field  of  clear  conscious- 
ness together,  and  the  mind's  center  of  attention  travels 
from  the  one  to  the  other,  the  ideas  are  associated. 
When  we  think  of  two  ideas  simultaneously,  the  mind's 
center  of  attention  oscillates  rapidly  from  one  to  the 
other.  When  the  ideas  pass  through  the  mind  in  sue- 


94  Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

cession,  they  are  also  simultaneously  before  the  mind ; 
for  in  repeating,  for  example,  the  alphabet,  a  is  not 
wholly  out  of  the  mind  when  we  say  6. 

Similarity  is  often  given  as  an  associating  force,  but 
it  can  easily  be  proven  that  similarity  is  only  a  case  of 
the  fundamental  law  given  above.  Thus  friend  A 
may  remind  us  of  friend  B,  because  their  features  are 
similar,  both  having  "  pronounced  "  noses.  When  I 
see  A,  I  see  his  nose.  That  nose  is  as  to  size  and  shape 
identical  with  B's  nose,  but  B's  nose  has  occurred  in 
my  mind  together  with  the  rest  of  the  features  of  B ; 
hence  it  is  associated  with  the  other  features  of  B,  and 
therefore  A  reminds  me  of  B. 

Subordinate  Laws  of  Mechanical  Association.  —  The 
more  vivid  the  experience  is  which  connects  two  ideas, 
the  stronger  the  association.  Thus,  we  are  not  likely 
to  forget  the  place  where  we  saw  a  stroke  of  lightning 
within  a  rod  of  us,  or  what  happened  to  us  in  a  ship- 
wreck. 

The  more  recent  the  association,  the  stronger  it  is. 
This  is  known  and  depended  on  by  every  pupil  who 
crams  on  the  evening  before  examination. 

THE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  ASSOCIATION 

The  physical  basis  of  association  is  supposed  to  be 
the  same  as  that  of  memory.  Corresponding  to  every 
psychosis  there  is  a  neurosis.  For  every  idea  before 
consciousness  in  attention  there  is  a  corresponding 
reaction  in  the  brain.  The  series  of  brain  events  and 
of  mind  events  run  parallel,  and  the  one  occasions  the 
other.  Careless  and  materialistic  thinkers  talk  of  ideas, 
sensations,  and  thoughts  as  coursing  through  the  nerve 


How  We  Think:  Association,  or  Synthesis      95 

cells.  Many  psychologists,  of  whom  we  have  a  right 
to  expect  better  things,  persist  in  this  unscientific 
romancing,  and  use  "  brain  "  when  they  mean  "  mind," 
and  speak  of  "  associations  in  the  brain  cells  "  and  the 
like.  It  may  safely  be  asserted  that  we  do  not  know 
one  practical  truth  more  about  association  because  we 
know  or  think  we  know  what  is  the  physical  basis  of 
association.  It  does,  however,  satisfy  our  theoretic 
interest  to  have  a  scientific  reason  for  the  fundamental 
law  of  mechanical  association. 

The  physical  basis,  then,  of  association  is  the  same  as 
that  of  memory  and  habit.  Mechanical  association 
may  presumably  be  supposed  to  depend  entirely  on 
these  modifications  of  the  structure  of  the  nerve  center 
which  we  call  the  reaction  paths  of  sensory  and  motor 
nerve  currents. 

ASSOCIATION  AN  ASPECT  OF  EVERY  MENTAL  ACTIVITY 

Psychologists  have  generally  confined  their  atten- 
tion in  studying  association  to  the  phase  of  it  connected 
with  memory.  But  we  must  not  forget  that  associa- 
tion is  an  aspect  of  the  intellectual  activity  that  is 
present  in  every  stage.  Thus,  in  perception  there  is 
association.  For  example,  in  hearing  a  quartet  sing, 
while  we  discriminate  the  four  parts  as  four  distinct 
series  of  sounds,  we  also  put  the  four  together  into  a 
harmonious  whole.  This  uniting  of  the  four  parts 
into  a  harmony  is  association,  synthesis.  In  seeing  a 
landscape,  we  associate  the  color  sensations,  the  in- 
terpretation of  the  motor  sensations  of  the  muscles  of 
the  eye  into  the  whole  which  we  know  as  the  percept 
of  the  landscape.  We  often  associate  the  images  of 


96          Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

one  sense  with  another,  so  that  when  we  perceive  with 
one  sense  we  imagine  the  corresponding  image  with 
the  other.  We  hear  a  mosquito  and  immediately 
imagine  the  visual  form  and  the  sting  of  the  little 
tormentor. 

We  cannot  compare,  analyze,  or  attend  without 
associating.  In  the  very  act  of  making  a  distinction 
between  two  notions,  we  associate  these  two  elements 
of  thought.  Thus,  when  I  say,  "  The  moon  is  brighter 
than  the  sky,"  I  have  associated  the  moon  and  the  sky 
into  a  greater  whole. 

THE  ORGANIZATION  OF  OUR  ASSOCIATIONS 

In  order  to  be  of  value  to  us,  our  mental  associations 
must  not  only  be  extensive,  but  classified  and  related 
as  well.  Some  people's  minds  are  like  some  people's 
desks.  There  is  a  great  deal  in  them,  but  it  might  just 
as  well  not  be  there,  for  no  one  can  find  it  in  the  dis- 
order. 

Our  scientific  theories  and  then-  unifying  philosophy 
are  our  mental  filing  system.  The  trained  mind  has 
its  associations  arranged  and  classified  according  to 
their  importance,  trivial  and  casual  relations  being 
subordinated  to  fundamental  laws  and  principles.  A 
very  important  service  of  education  is  this  organiza- 
tion of  associations. 

Our  systems  of  thought  should  not,  however,  be  re- 
garded as  fixed  and  unchanging.  It  is  the  mark  of 
intellectual  youth  and  vigor  to  be  willing  to  change 
even  one's  basic  principles,  if  convincing  evidence  is 
brought  forward  to  prove  that  they  are  unsound.  Con- 
versely, the  condition  of  being  unconvinced  in  spite 


How  We  Think:  Association,  or  Synthesis      97 

of  valid  arguments  is  the  sure  index  of  intellectual 
senility. 

Thus,  the  mind  has  two  kinds  of  work  to  do :  (a)  to 
gather  facts  and  classify  them;  (6)  to  improve  its 
scheme  of  classification  by  emendations  and  additions. 

Exercises 

1.  What  mistake  in  kinds  of  association  does  the  pupil 
make  who  memorizes  his  geometry  without  understanding  it  V 

2.  Are  odor  memories  useful  and  practical?    Illustrate. 

3.  What  association  is  found  in  seeing  a  mansion  half  a  mile 
away? 

4.  The  odor  of  petunias  reminds  John  of  his  childhood  home. 
Explain  the  association. 

5.  Show  how  and  what  the  architect  associates  when  he  plans 
a  house. 

6.  Take  a  lesson  in  geography  and  show  what  associations 
must  be  made. 

7.  What  state  of  mind  does  this  famous  adage  show  ?     "  I'm 
open  to  conviction,  but  I'd  like  to  see  any  one  who  could  con- 
vince me." 


(B).  The  Motives  and  Feelings 

CHAPTER  XI 
MAN   AS   A   REACTING   ORGANISM 

MAN  responds,  or  reacts,  to  stimuli.  This  is  per- 
haps the  simplest  and  most  fundamental  attribute  of 
his  nature.  In  place  of  man  in  the  first  sentence,  we 
may  with  equal  propriety  and  truth  put  mind  or  con- 
sciousness. Hence  responsiveness  to  stimuli  lies  at 
the  base  of  all  mentality. 

The  door  opens  in  the  rear  of  the  schoolroom.  Every 
single  pupil  has  an  impulse  to  turn  his  face  to  the  door, 
and  all  who  do  not  inhibit  the  impulse  do  so  turn. 
Put  a  slice  of  lemon  in  your  mouth.  Instantly  the 
salivary  glands  secrete  saliva.  Think  of  tasting  lemon, 
and  much  the  same  reaction  takes  place.  Here  we 
have  three  examples  of  a  stimulus  and  a  mental  reac- 
tion. 

THE  DIFFERENT  KINDS  OF  STIMULI 

A  stimulus  may  be  — 

(a)  Foreign,  when  caused  by  something  foreign  to 
the  organism,  as  the  prick  of  a  pin. 

(6)  Organic,  when  produced  by  the  organism  itself, 
as  hunger.  For  the  human  organism  is  auto-stimulat- 
ing, and  is  not  forced  to  rely  on  the  push  and  pull  of 
the  external  world  to  set  it  to  working. 


Man  as  a  Reacting  Organism  99 

Stimuli  may  also  be  divided  into  — 

(a)  External,  or  physical,  stimuli  which  are  produced 
by  the  excitation  of  sensory  nerve  endings,  as  the  con- 
tact with  the  sting  of  a  bee  or  the  taste  of  lemon  in 
the  example  on  the  preceding  page. 

(6)  Mental  stimuli,  usually  called  suggestions,  which 
consist  in  the  presence  of  ideas  with  motor  valency  in 
the  field  of  consciousness.  Thus,  military  leaders  try 
to  inflame  their  troops  to  valorous  deeds,  as  did  Na- 
poleon at  the  Pyramids,  by  filling  their  minds  with 
unages  of  honor,  glory,  and  riches  to  be  won  with  victory. 
Thus,  thinking  of  a  lemon  has  almost  as  great  an  effect 
on  the  salivary  glands  as  the  actual  presence  of  the 
lemon  in  the  mouth. 

IMPULSE  DEFINED 

The  mind  responds  to  stimuli,  but  it  does  not  re- 
spond in  the  same  way  to  every  stimulus.  The  mind 
replies  in  a  different  and  definite  way  to  every  different 
stimulus.  We  have  a  complex  system  of  responses, 
very  delicately  and  definitely  organized. 

Let  us  call  the  mental  response  to  a  stimulus  an 
impulse.  We  may  define  it  thus :  An  impulse  or  mental 
reaction  is  a  tension  or  pressure  in  consciousness  towards 
some  definite  activity. 

We  say  a  pressure  towards  an  activity,  and  we  do 
not  call  the  act  itself  an  impulse,  because  it  happens 
that  the  reaction  sometimes  remains  simply  mental, 
a  tendency,  and  never  becomes  an  external  action. 
This  is  because  the  mind  has  the  power  of  inhibition. 
This  power  is  not  found  in  the  lower  reaches  of  the 
mind.  We  cannot  inhibit  at  will  any  of  the  organic 


100         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

functions,  except  breathing,  and  the  reflex  actions  are 
only  very  imperfectly  subject  to  inhibition.  The 
lower  animals,  and  every  human  being  in  infancy,  and 
even  later  when  in  the  subconscious  state,  react  with 
the  fatal  precision  of  mechanisms.  But  in  its  higher 
forms,  the  mind  has  the  power  of  delaying  and  even  of 
refusing  the  reaction.  We  shall  hear  more  of  inhibition 
later. 

Desires.  —  With  experience  and  deliberation  a 
purpose,  a  "  final  end,"  becomes  explicit  in  conscious- 
ness. This  develops,  magnifies,  and  transforms  the 
impulse.  A  desire  is  a  pressure  or  tension  in  the  mind 
toward  realizing  a  purpose.  In  the  case  of  a  desire, 
the  impulse  reaches  out  for  the  result  of  the  activity, 
not  for  the  activity  itself.  When  the  boy  climbs  upon 
a  chair  in  the  pantry  cupboard,  preparatory  to  the 
acquirement  of  a  pumpkin  pie,  the  impulse,  the  inner 
pressure,  is  towards  the  enjoyment  of  pie  eating,  which 
is  the  purpose  of  his  actions,  and  there  is  no  direct 
impulse  to  climb  on  a  chair.  A  desire,  then,  is  a  mental 
pressure  purpose-ward.  Desires  are  entirely  hide- 
pendent  of  the  will,  and  are  neither  diminished  nor 
increased  by  the  direct  command  of  the  will.  The 
measure  of  the  strength  of  a  desire  is  the  intensity  of 
feeling  with  which  it  is  indissolubly  connected. 

The  stimulus  in  the  case  of  a  desire  is  an  imagined 
future  good  either  for  one's  self  or  for  some  one  else. 
In  the  example  given,  the  stimulus  is  the  imagined 
bliss  of  future  pie  eating,  which  quickens  the  impulse 
to  invade  the  cupboard. 

Instincts.  —  A  great  many  of  our  actions,  however, 
are  done  without  any  reference  to  results  or  future 


Man  as  a  Reacting  Organism  101 

effects.  We  simply  feel  like  acting  in  a  certain  way, 
and  this  is  all  the  explanation  we  can  give.  For  ex- 
ample, a  few  years  earlier,  that  boy  we  just  spoke  of 
put  anything  and  everything  he  could  move  into  his 
mouth.  He  had  no  idea  that  by  so  doing  he  could 
or  would  increase  his  happiness.  He  simply  felt  like 
doing  it,  and  did  it.  Here  the  stimulus  seems  to  be  the 
mere  sight  or  touch  of  an  object. 

Examples  of  instinct  are  laughing,  smiling,  and  weep- 
ing. When  done  with  a  purpose  in  view,  these  expres- 
sions of  feeling  are  not  genuine.  A  person  when  "  kill- 
ing time  "  will  walk,  whistle,  and  whittle,  just  because 
he  feels  like  doing  something. 

The  lower  animals  have  more  numerous,  and  more 
complex,  instincts  than  man.  The  honeybee  con- 
structs cells  that  are  mathematically  perfect  for  econ- 
omy and  strength,  and  still  we  feel  sure  the  bee  never 
studied  geometry ;  the  squirrel  gathers  and  stores  nuts 
in  the  fall  for  his  winter  food,  but  we  don't  imagine 
he  keeps  an  almanac ;  in  fact,  we  know  he  does  not, 
for  he  will  do  the  same  thing  whether  he  has  ever  asso- 
ciated with  other  squirrels  or  not,  and  even  when  the 
practice  is  perfectly  useless. 

An  impulse,  then,  is  a  conscious  pressure  towards  some 
specific  activity.  Experience  develops  these  impulses 
into  desires,  that  is,  impulses  with  a  conscious  pur- 
pose, and  usually  we  think  of  this  purpose  as  the  orig- 
inal propelling  force  in  the  impulse.  This,  however, 
is  false.  All  our  impulses  were  at  first  blind,  or  in- 
stinctive, and  many  remain  such  throughout  life,  at 
least  may  reappear  thus  on  occasion. 

The  impulse  is  always  accompanied  by  a  feeling, 


102         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

and  the  intensity  of  the  feeling  is  a  measure  of  the 
strength  of  the  impulse.  When  the  purpose  of  the 
impulse  is  not  present  in  consciousness,  we  may 
speak  of  it  as  a  blind  impulse,  or  instinct.  When 
the  impulse  is  not  native  to  the  individual  but 
acquired,  it  is  a  habit. 

Instinct  and  Desire  Differentiated.  —  The  stimulus 
which  awakens  a  desire  is  always  the  image  of  some- 
thing thought  attainable  in  the  future.  The  motive 
force  lies  in  the  desirability  of  this  future  goal.  But 
here  it  must  be  noted  that  the  happiness  of  another 
person  may  be  directly  desirable,  and  not  simply  in- 
directly desirable  as  increasing  one's  own  happiness. 

In  blind  impulse  the  stimulus  is  something  imme- 
diate, a  sensation  or  an  "  idea."  Our  minds  are  so 
constructed  that  without  reflection  and  without  pur- 
pose they  tend  to  respond  to  certain  stimuli  in  certain 
definite  ways.  Thus  if  a  person  is  insulted,  he  will  have 
an  impulse  to  strike  before  he  has  had  time  to  formulate 
a  purpose,  and  before  he  has  pondered  on  the  conse- 
quences. A  hungry  person  has  an  impulse  to  eat 
without  any  thought  of  the  purpose  of  eating.  The 
mother  kisses  the  child,  not  because  she  has  figured  out 
that  this  is  a  fine  way  of  getting  enjoyment,  but  because 
there  is  something  in  her  that  impels  her  to  do  this 
without  any  aid  of  philosophy. 

The  Subconscious  Reactions  (or  Impulses).  —  (a)  Re- 
flex actions.  An  incoming  neural  current  may  be  sub- 
consciously switched  in  a  nerve  center  into  an  out- 
going motor  neural  current.  This  is  reflex  action. 
Sneezing,  winking,  coughing,  grasping  for  support  when 
falling,  are  examples.  The  stimulus  is  a  "  sensory  " 


Man  as  a  Reacting  Organism  103 

neural  current.  We  have  classed  it  under  the  subcon- 
scious, though  we  may  be  clearly,  even  painfully,  con- 
scious of  our  reflex  actions.  But  clear  consciousness 
is  in  no  way  an  aid  to  reflex  actions ;  hence  it  best  fits 
into  the  subconscious  class. 

(b)  Organic  functions.  Our  minds  "  run "  our 
bodies,  but  we  waste  very  little  consciousness  on  that 
business.  Still  even  our  deepest  subconsciousness 
partakes  of  all  the  essential  characteristics  of  mind, 
consciousness.  The  bodily  organs  respond  to  stimula- 
tion not  only  of  the  physical  kind,  but  also  that  of  sug- 
gestion. Mental  excitement  makes  the  heart  beat 
faster,  and  a  disgusting  thought  "  turns  the  stomach." 

GRADATION  OF  MOTIVES 

The  direct  response  of  the  mind  to  a  stimulus  we 
have  called  impulse.  But  man  has  evolved  beyond 
the  necessity  of  a  direct  and  unvarying  reaction  to 
stimuli.  He  can  inhibit  his  impulse  deliberately  and 
choose  among  several  possible  lines  of  action.  Such 
chosen  motives  we  have  here  called  ideals  or  rational 
interests. 

We  may  then  grade  or  classify  motives  according 
to  their  evolution  as  follows :  — 

I.   Ideals,  or  rational  interests.  —  These  are  chosen  purposes  and 

have  motive  power  independent  of  emotions. 
II.   Impulses  or  emotional  interests.  —  These  occur  without  our 
choice,  and  cease  to  exist  when  the  accompanying  emotion 
dies. 

1.  Desires.  —  Impulses    (direct    mental    reactions)    with  a 

conscious  purpose. 

2.  Instincts.  —  Impulses  without  a  conscious  purpose. 

3.  Subconscious  impulses,  or  mental  reactions. 


104         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

(a)  Reflex  actions,  as  shutting  one's  eyes  when  an  object 

comes  near  them. 
(6)  Organic  functions,  as  the  beating  of  the  heart. 

Exercises 

1.  Define  and  describe  stimulus,  reaction,  suggestion,  impulse, 
desire,  instinct,  expression,  and  inhibition. 

2.  Give  examples  of  physical  reaction. 

3.  Give  examples  of  instincts  in  human  beings. 

4.  Give  examples  of  instincts  in  animals. 

5.  Try  to  improve  upon  the  classification  of  stimuli. 

6.  Try  to  improve  upon  the  classification  of  reactions,  or 
impulses. 

7.  Place  the  following  reactions  in  the  scale,  or  classification 
from  desire  to  organic  function. 

Some  one  trails  a  string  over  the  upper  lip  of  a  sleeping  person. 
The  sleeper,  without  awakening,  brushes  his  lip  with  his  hand. 
Where  would  you  place  the  act  of  the  sleeper  ?  Where  the  act 
of  the  joker? 

John  grasps  inadvertently  a  heated  poker,  intending  to  stir 
the  fire.  He  drops  the  poker  quicker  than  he  grasped  it.  What 
kind  of  impulse  impelled  him  to  the  first  act?  To  the  drop- 
ping of  the  poker  ? 


CHAPTER  XII 

FEELINGS,    IMPULSES,   AND    THEIR 
EXPRESSION 

MAN  appreciates,  puts  a  value  on,  his  experience. 
He  is  pleased  or  displeased  with  his  contact  with  the 
world.  This  aspect  of  pain  or  pleasure  in  our  mental 
life  is  called  feeling. 

Note  carefully  that  feeling  is  not  a  separate  psychic 
reality,  a  distinct  mental  event,  but  that  it  is  an  ele- 
ment, an  aspect,  of  every  mental  state.  It  is  the  pleas- 
ure or  pain  of  any  state  of  consciousness. 

THE  RELATION  OP  FEELING  TO  IMPULSE 

Feeling  and  impulse  are  intimately  united.  Every 
feeling  is  accompanied  by  an  impulse,  and  there  are 
no  impulses  without  feelings.  In  fact,  feeling  and  im- 
pulse are  two  sides  of  the  same  psychic  reality.  In 
everyday  thinking  we  seldom  discriminate  between 
the  two.  Thus  hunger  is  at  once  the  name  both  of  the 
painful  feeling  of  an  aching  void  and  the  impulse  to  fill 
this  vacuum;  and  fear  denotes  both  the  constricting, 
crushing,  painful  sense  of  danger  and  the  impulse  to 
flee. 

The  popular  conception  is  that  the  feeling  is  the 
cause  of  the  impulse.  We  usually  think  that  we  have 
an  impulse  to  run  away  because  we  are  afraid.  Some 

105 


106         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

psychologists,  and  among  them  William  James,  main- 
tain the  exact  opposite,  viz.,  that  we  feel  afraid  because 
we  run  away  and  we  feel  angry  because  we  strike. 

Neither  of  these  views  can  be  maintained,  if  we 
strictly  adhere  to  our  definitions,  and  are  careful  in  our 
analysis.  Feeling  and  impulse  are  aspects  of  the  same 
psychic  event,  and  both  are  occasioned  by  a  common 
stimulus.  In  the  case  of  fear,  it  is  the  idea  of  impend- 
ing danger  that  is  the  stimulus  both  of  the  feeling  and 
the  impulse  of  fear. 

Feelings  and  impulses  are,  then,  indissolubly  united. 
Wherever  fear  as  an  impulse  is  present,  there  is  also 
fear  as  a  feeling,  and  the  strength  of  the  impulse  is 
exactly  the  same  as  the  intensity  of  the  feeling.  Every 
impulse  has  its  peculiar  feeling  attached  to  it,  and  the 
impulse  is  born  a  twin  with  the  feeling  and  expires  at 
the  same  moment  with  its  twin  brother.  But  notice 
that  they  are  twin  brothers,  not  father  and  son.  The 
feeling  is  neither  the  cause  nor  the  effect  of  the  impulse 
any  more  than  this  page  is  the  cause  or  the  result  of 
the  page  on  the  other  side  of  the  paper. 

The  Universal  Motive.  —  It  is  the  province  of  phi- 
losophy to  unify  all  things.  A  prominent  class  of  phi- 
losophers and  psychologists  of  all  ages  have  found  the 
universal  motive  for  human  action  in  a  desire  for  hap- 
piness. Usually  it  has  been  put  in  the  absolutely 
selfish  form  of  a  desire  for  one's  own  happiness  only. 
Every  impulse,  it  is  argued,  is  a  fleeing  from  pain  and 
a  seeking  of  pleasure.  The  mind,  they  say,  always 
seeks  the  line  of  least  resistance,  and  we  act  hence  in 
the  way  that  promises  a  minimum  of  suffering  and  a 
maximum  of  enjoyment. 


Feelings,  Impulses,  and  Their  Expression      107 

The  trouble  with  this  hypothesis  is  that  experience 
shows  it  isn't  so.  Our  motives  are  not  originally  united 
into  one  grand  aim  in  life.  We  have,  on  the  contrary, 
many  discrete  desires  for  various  concrete  experiences 
and  activities.  The  boy  does  not  desire  joy,  he  wants 
to  go  fishing.  James  does  not  long  for  love's  bliss,  he 
longs  for  Sally ;  and  he  does  not  long  for  Sally  because 
he  has  figured  out  that  Sally  means  happiness  to  him. 
The  munching  schoolgirl  is  not  pursuing  happiness,  her 
soul  is  set  on  caramels.  We  are  not  under  the  domina- 
tion of  one  all-inclusive  desire  for  happiness  and  we  do 
not,  consequently,  sit  down  coolly  and  rationally  and 
choose  from  the  means  at  our  command  the  ones  that 
will  lead  to  the  desired  result  —  happiness  —  as  the 
angler  critically  selects  from  a  number  of  flies  in  his  box 
that  fly  which  he  thinks  most  likely  to  catch  the  fish. 
No,  our  yearnings  and  impulses  are  directly  connected 
with  something  concrete  to  be  obtained,  attained,  or 
done,  and  in  our  less  developed  state  we  care  not 
whether  it  increases  the  sum  total  of  our  life's  happi- 
ness or  not.  Thus  the  boy  goes  in  swimming  though 
he  knows  he  will  be  spanked  for  it,  and  the  drunkard 
drains  the  glass  though  he  knows  the  ultimate  result  is 
only  woe. 

The  point  we  wish  to  make  here  is  that  we  have  many 
and  diverse  desires  and  impulses,  and  that  though  these 
doubtless  could  be  reduced  to  a  system  and  unity  by  a 
philosopher,  the  average  human  being  is  emphatically 
not  conscious  of  any  unifying  connection  binding  all 
his  emotions  and  impulses  into  one.  Very  often,  the 
best  reason  we  can  give  for  an  action  is,  "I  felt  like 
doing  that."  We  are  so  constituted  that  there  is  in  us 


108         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

a  pressure  or  tension  in  consciousness  to  act  in  certain 
ways.  This  conscious  propulsion  to  action  we  here  call 
impulse  or  emotional  interest  and  it  is  aroused  by  stimu- 
lus. There  is  not  one  impulse,  one  motive,  one  reaction 
to  stimulus,  but  there  is  a  specific  reaction  for  each 
stimulus.  Thus,  when  hungry,  we  have  a  lively  interest 
in  food ;  when  angered,  an  impulse  to  strike ;  when  a 
sound  occurs  behind  us,  an  impulse  to  turn  the  head ; 
when  reading  a  mystery  story,  an  emotional  interest 
in  continuing  reading  to  find  out  how  it  "  turned  out." 

The  feeling  that  forms  a  part  of  the  psychic  event  that 
contains  the  impulse  is  either  painful  or  pleasant.  If 
painful,  this  feeling  is  accompanied  by  a  secondary 
impulse  to  rid  one's  self  of  this  pain;  if  pleasant,  to 
seek  to  increase  this  pleasure.  But  note  that  this  sec- 
ondary impulse  is  not  the  primary  impulse,  and  is 
usually  much  weaker.  Thus  the  lovesick  swain  enjoys 
many  a  weary  hour  by  daydreaming  of  "  her,"  but  he 
does  not  think  of  her  because  it  is  pleasant  to  think  of 
her,  but  because  he  loves  her.  This  is  proven  by  the 
fact  that  if  he  lose  her,  or  grow  jealous,  so  that  his 
thoughts  of  her  become  painful  to  him,  he  does  not  by 
any  means  cease  to  think  of  her.  His  impulse  to  think 
of  her  is  directly  bound  up  with  his  love  of  her,  and 
this  impulse  he  has  whether  the  exercise  of  it  brings  him 
pain  or  pleasure. 

The  angry  child  hits  his  adversary  because  the  in- 
ternal pressure  to  hit  is  too  strong  for  any  inhibiting 
force  present  to  hinder.  To  be  sure,  the  pent-up  feel- 
ing accompanying  anger  is  disagreeable  and  the  relief 
experienced  when  the  child  gives  way  to  the  pressure 
to  strike,  is  very  pleasant,  but  it  was  not  to  get  rid  of 


Feelings,  Impulses,  and  Their  Expression     109 

the  disagreeable  feeling  and  to  get  pleasure  that  the 
child  struck.  The  child  was  not  thinking  of  itself  and 
its  condition  at  all.  It  never  speculated  on  the  psy- 
chological effect  of  the  blow  on  itself.  It  simply  felt 
it  had  to  strike,  and  it  struck. 

A  child  is  in  danger  of  drowning.  The  mother  jumps 
into  the  water  and  with  imminent  peril  to  herself  saves 
her  child.  When  the  child  fell  into  the  water,  the 
mother  had  at  once  a  strong  impulse,  a  tension,  a  pres- 
sure, a  mental  pushing  towards  jumping  in  at  any  risk 
to  save  her  child.  This  impulse  was  accompanied  by 
a  most  poignantly  painful  feeling  of  terror  at  the 
thought  of  possibly  losing  the  child.  But  it  was  not  to 
escape  this  pain  that  the  mother  saved  the  child. 

Yet  another  example  and  analysis  of  impulse  and 
emotion  may  be  of  value.  Let  us  analyze  fear.  Fear 
consists  of  an  impulse  to  flee  from  what  is  conceived  as 
danger,  and  a  disagreeable  emotion  so  intimately  associ- 
ated with  the  impulse  that  most  psychologists  have 
talked  now  of  the  emotion  and  now  of  the  impulse  with- 
out distinction.  The  mischief  of  the  blunder  is  the 
accompanying  tacit  assumption  that  the  disagreeable 
feeling  is  the  motive  power  of  the  impulse  to  flight; 
that  hence  the  measure  of  the  disagreeableness  of  the 
emotion  is  the  measure  of  the  force  of  the  impulse  to 
flee,  that  a  person  wants  to  flee  because  it  pains  him  to 
be  afraid.  This  is  fundamentally  false.  The  emotion 
and  the  impulse  are  two  aspects  of  the  same  psycho- 
logical event.  We  are  so  constituted  that  we  want  to 
flee  when  in  presence  of  danger.  We  also  feel  pain  in 
the  presence  of  danger,  and  we  feel  worse  if  our  desire 
for  flight  cannot  be  gratified.  But  we  do  not  primarily 


110         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

want  to  flee  because  fear  is  painful.  In  fact,  when  very 
much  afraid  we  pay  no  attention  at  all  to  our  suffer- 
ings from  fear.  Our  whole  mind  is  occupied  with  the 
thought  of  the  danger  confronting  us. 

Thus  we  may  conclude  that  we  are  impelled  by 
primary  forces,  for  the  existence  of  which  we  can  find 
in  consciousness  nothing  ulterior,  to  certain  definite 
actions,  and  the  aversion  to  pain  and  desire  for  pleasure 
constitute  only  one  of  these  impelling  forces. 

COMMON  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  EMOTIONS  AND 
IMPULSES 

All  emotions  and  impulses  are  in  themselves  good ; 
they  become  evil  only  when  developed  out  of  propor- 
tion and  when  we  lose  control  of  ourselves. 

All  emotions  and  impulses  are  short-lived.  An  emo- 
tion and  impulse  that  continues  above  the  threshold  of 
consciousness  for  several  hours  is  a  menacing  psycho- 
logical phenomenon.  It  is  certainly  debilitating,  and 
there  is  probably  danger  of  insanity.  "  But  certainly 
the  grief  for  a  dead  friend  lasts  more  than  a  few  hours." 
Yes,  but  how?  In  a  few  hours  does  not  sleep  put  an 
end  for  a  time  to  the  sorrow  ?  If  the  sorrow  is  so  great 
that  sleep  is  impossible,  there  is  indeed  great  danger. 
And  even  in  waking  moments,  there  will  soon  come 
times  when,  at  least  for  a  little  while,  the  weight  of  grief 
lifts  from  the  " heart"  of  the  bereaved  one. 

During  its  short  life,  the  emotion  is  constantly  vary- 
ing in  intensity.  Very  great  intensity  is  not  maintained 
for  more  than  a  few  seconds  at  a  time. 

Consequently  impulses  and  emotions  are  equally 
variable,  equally  short-lived.  They  are  also  liable  to 


Feelings,  Impulses,  and  Their  Expression     111 

frequent  resurrections.  Actions  caused  by  impulse 
are  therefore  "  jerky,"  intermittent,  never  carried  on 
consistently  and  uninterruptedly  for  any  great  length 
of  tune,  though  this  does  not  hinder  them  from  having 
a  most  frequent  recurrence. 

EXPRESSION  OF  IMPULSES  AND  EMOTIONS 

We  cannot  control  or  even  influence  our  impulses 
and  feelings  directly.  We  cannot  help  having  them. 
No  one  can  say  successfully,  "  There  now,  I  shall  no 
longer  be  afraid  of  the  dark;  I  shall  no  longer  like 
mince  pie."  Our  emotions  are  totally  independent  of 
our  will. 

Every  emotion  has  some  bodily  expression.  Thus  in 
fear  there  are  pallor  and  trembling,  and,  if  the  impulse 
triumphs,  the  motions  of  flight.  The  emotions,  the 
impulse,  and  the  expressions  are  intimately  connected 
and  interdependent.  Impulses  and  emotions  can  be 
starved  to  death,  yes,  in  some  cases  choked  down  almost 
instantly,  by  refusing  them  expression.  Giving  free 
and  vigorous  expression  to  a  slight  impulse  and  emotion 
fans  it  into  a  violent  flame.  Thus  when  the  child 
slightly  afraid  of  the  dark  begins  to  run,  its  fears  in- 
crease and  it  is  seized  by  an  uncontrollable  terror.  A 
retreat  in  war  invariably  tends  to  become  a  panicky 
flight  and  requires  more  skillful  handling  by  the  officers 
than  a  storming.  In  the  sullen  crowd  that  surrounds 
the  prisoner,  there  is  not  one  person  that  really  intends 
to  lynch  him.  But  some  one  cries,  "Lynch  him,"  and 
dangles  a  rope  before  the  crowd.  Here  is  expression 
for  the  slumbering  passions.  The  prisoner  is  seized, 
dragged  to  a  tree,  the  rope  is  adjusted,  the  deed  is  done. 


112         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

The  impulse  to  wreak  vengeance  on  the  prisoner  grew 
with  each  detail  in  the  performance,  and  very  likely  not 
a  man  there,  not  even  the  one  who  first  cried,  "  Lynch 
him,"  could  have  otherwise  brought  himself  to  take  the 
prisoner's  life. 

How  to  inhibit  the  Expression  of  an  Emotion.  — 
Suppressing  the  expression  suppresses  emotion  and 
impulse.  This  is  done  by  shifting  the  attention  to 
another  subject.  The  same  soldiers  that  will  change  a 
retreat  to  a  terror-stricken  flight,  as  the  Federals  at 
Manassas,  will  charge  with  absolute  fearlessness  in  the 
face  of  certain  death,  as  at  Cold  Harbor.  Why? 
Keeping  the  attention  on  the  activities  involved  in 
charging,  they  do  not  give  any  expression  to  the  in- 
cipient impulse  and  emotion  of  fear.  Hence  fear  is 
choked  out;  and  giving  the  strongest  possible  expres- 
sion to  the  combative  impulse  and  the  emotion  of  cour- 
age, raises  this  emotion  and  this  impulse  to  a  state 
of  ferocious  frenzy  which  excludes  every  other  thought 
and  interest  from  consciousness.  We  may  hence  state 
the  law  as  follows :  — 

'  Emotions  and  impulses  and  their  expressions  are  in- 
terdependent. The  suppression  of  the  expression  will 
at  once  decrease  and  finally  annihilate  the  impulse  and 
the  emotion. 

We  cannot  by  a  mere  fiat  of  the  will  obliterate  an 
impulse  or  kill  an  emotion,  but  by  this  indirect  method 
we  may  become  masters  of  our  emotional  and  impulsive 
nature.  An  ungovernable  temper  in  a  middle-aged 
person  shows  that  he  has  not  disciplined  himself  by 
practicing  self-restraint  in  his  youth.  One  of  the 
finest  products  of  human  endeavor  is  the  type  of  char- 


Feelings,  Impulses,  and  Their  Expression     113 

acter  we  call  "  well-bred,"  and  the  charm  of  such  a 
character  lies  in  the  perfect  control  of  appetite,  pas- 
sions, desires,  and  temper.  We  do  well  in  admiring  the 
ease  and  suavity  of  such  a  person,  his  uniform  courtesy 
and  imperturbable  self-possession  in  danger  and  in 
irritation,  for  they  represent  years  of  patient  and  exact- 
ing training  in  self-control. 

/  Hence  emotions  and  impulses  depend  for  their  life 
and  growth  on  expression.  Sobbing  and  weeping  feed 
our  sorrow,  and  laughter  keeps  up  our  hilarity.  The 
person  who  never  restrains  his  anger,  but  rages  and 
swears  to  his  heart's  content,  is  sure  to  develop  an 
uncommonly  "  hot  temper."  If  when  walking  a  high 
railroad  bridge  you  do  not  check  the  first  tremor  of 
dizziness  by  knitting  your  muscles  and  taking  firm, 
steady  strides,  you  will  soon  be  overcome  by  dizziness. 

To  be  sure,  some  people  enjoy  having  a  good  cry; 
and  the  bitterness  of  grief  is  assuaged  by  tears ;  but  this 
in  no  way  contradicts  our  theory.  It  is  always  painful 
to  inhibit  a  strong  emotion  or  impulse.  Therefore, 
though  the  feeling  of  sadness  is  as  great  or  greater  than 
ever,  we  experience  a  great  relief  in  allowing  our  feelings 
their  natural  expression.  Let  it  also  be  noted  that  our 
emotions  exhaust  themselves  in  the  expression.  After 
having  "  had  her  cry  out,"  the  girl  feels  better.  The 
fellow  who  "  flies  off  the  handle,"  and  roars  and  curses, 
is  shamefaced  and  subdued  after  the  brain  storm  is 
over. 

There  are,  then,  two  ways  of  getting  rid  of  an  emo- 
tion or  impulse.  First :  Inhibit  all  expression,  and  it 
will  die  of  starvation.  Second :  Give  it  full  sway,  and 
it  will  burn  itself  out.  But  the  burning-out  process 


114         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

is  dangerous  —  wildfire  always  is  —  and  deceptive, 
since  every  time  we  give  way  to  an  emotion,  we  come 
deeper  into  its  clutches  for  the  next  attack. 

Now  I  expect  this  objection :  Inhibited  grief  and 
anger  do  not  die  out.  Have  you  not  heard  of  "  nurs- 
ing one's  anger  "? 

Precisely.  When  anger  or  grief  is  nursed,  the  ex- 
pression is  not  fully  inhibited.  In  grief  the  chest  is 
depressed,  the  eyes  cast  down,  the  breath  short,  and 
sometimes  there  are  convulsive  sobs  and  moist  eyes. 
In  anger,  your  man  who  thinks  he  inhibits  his  emotion, 
grits  his  teeth,  wrinkles  up  his  brow,  doubles  up  his 
fist,  and  allows  bitter  thoughts  to  infest  his  mind.  This 
is  not  inhibition.  In  fact,  perfect  inhibition  may  be 
impossible,  but  this  is  always  possible,  and  is  given  as 
a  sure  cure :  Inhibit  every  bodily  expression  under 
the  control  of  the  will  by  doing  something  else,  and  keep 
your  mind  off  the  subject  by  thinking  of  something 
else. 

Here  is  where  the  iron  law  of  habit  again  asserts 
itself.  Every  time  we  give  way  to  an  appetite  or  a  pas- 
sion, every  time  we  give  expression  to  an  emotion  or 
an  impulse,  we  make  it  easier  to  repeat  and  harder  to 
resist. 

Perhaps  some  persons  do  inhabit  systems  whose 
tastes,  appetites,  passions,  and  impulses  are  diseased 
from  birth.  But  such  cases  are  certainly  rare.  With 
most  of  us  it  is  true  that  per  se  our  impulses  and  emo- 
tions are  neither  right  nor  wrong,  but  simply  natural. 

System  of  True  and  Just  Proportion.  —  Our  training 
in  habit  should  be  such  as  to  reduce  and  expand  the 
emotions  and  impulses  into  a  harmonious  system,  and 


Feelings,  Impulses,  and  Their  Expression     115 

to  subordinate  the  lower  motives  of  our  nature  to  those 
of  the  higher.  Thus,  we  ought  to  like  our  food,  and 
enjoy  our  meals,  but  any  abandonment  of  our  whole 
being  to  the  pleasures  of  the  table  is  gluttony  or  greedi- 
ness, and  degrades  us.  No  one  needs  to  be  told  that 
slavery  under  the  appetite  of  perverted  thirst  is  one  of 
man's  greatest  curses. 

Value  of  Self-control.  —  This  is  the  highest  of  the 
impulse  virtues.  No  emotion  or  impulse  should  be 
allowed  to  grow  so  strong  that  its  owner  is  not  its 
master. 

In  the  vernacular  we  say  that  a  person  is  mad  when 
he  is  so  angry  that  he  will  say  and  do  things  that  he 
would  not  do  after  deliberation.  That  expression  is 
not  elegant  but  it  is  scientifically  correct.  When  anger 
is  not  under  self-control  it  is  really  temporary  insanity, 
madness. 

/     Every  impulse  and  emotion  is  dangerous  when  beyond 
control.     Hence  self-control  is  of  greatest  importance. 

The  pedagogy  of  emotions  and  impulses  is,  then,  ex- 
ceedingly simple :  — 

Give  all  expression  possible  to  every  emotion  and 
impulse  you  wish  to  develop ;  inhibit  every  expression 
of  every  emotion  and  impulse  when  it  transcends  its 
proper  limit. 

Continue  this  line  of  treatment  until  it  crystallizes 
into  a  habit. 

But  since  self-control  is  a  habit,  it  can  be  acquired 
only  gradually.  Hence  we  should  not  expect  children 
to  be  perfect  in  this  art.  How  much  of  it  we  can  ex- 
pect in  children  depends  on  their  previous  training 
and  degree  of  mental  development. 


116         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

It  is  therefore  absurd  of  teachers  to  try  by  threats 
to  keep  children  from  turning  their  heads  around  when 
a  noise,  as  of  some  one  coming  in  late,  occurs  behind 
them.  To  inhibit  this  neck  twisting  requires  a  certain 
amount  of  self-control.  If  the  pupils  have  it,  well  and 
good.  They  will  not  turn  around.  If  they  have  it 
not,  a  threat  to  behead  them  will  not  stop  their  neck 
muscles  from  turning  their  heads. 

This  should  be  the  aim  of  the  teacher :  so  to  train 
his  pupils  that  when  they  arrive  at  maturity  they  may 
have  perfect  control  of  themselves. 

Keep  your  pupils  ever  pressing  forward  to  new  con- 
quests in  self-control.  Give  your  approbation  for  every 
victory  and  your  pity,  not  unmixed  with  contempt,  for 
every  defeat  in  this  struggle  to  learn  the  art  of  self- 
control.  But  don't  let  your  approbations  and  criti- 
cisms be  voluble.  Be  chary  with  words.  A  look,  a 
smile,  a  frown  from  a  teacher  that  says  little  and  means 
much,  is  far  more  potent  than  scoldings  and  sermons. 

Remember  that  this  side  of  morality  is  an  art,  a  habit, 
and  that  no  art,  no  habit,  is  ever  learned  by  talking 
about  it,  but  by  doing. 

Above  all,  see  that  you  yourself  have  the  self-control 
you  wish  to  teach  your  pupils. 

Exercises 

1.  Review  this  chapter  by  summing  up  each  paragraph  in  a 
line  or  two. 

2.  Distinguish  the  feeling  and  the  impulse  in  each  of  the 
following :  — 

On  St.  Valentine's  day,  May  runs  to  meet  the  postman  in  the 
street,  grabs  delighted  a  big  envelope,  only  to  find  it  is  addressed 
to  her  sister.  She  brings  the  valentine  to  her  sister.  They 


Feelings,  Impulses,  and  Their  Expression      117 

open  it  together,  and  find  it  is,  contrary  to  their  expectation, 
an  ugly  one. 

At  each  step,  what  is  the  impulse  and  what  is  the  feeling  of 
each  girl? 

3.  State  all  the  principles  you  know  for  the  training  of  the 
impulses  and  emotions.     Make  the  statements  as  terse  as  pos- 
sible and  try  to  improve  upon  the  statements  of  the  book. 

4.  Isn't  it  true  that  having  "  a  good  cry  "  relieves  the  blues? 
Try  to  reconcile  this  with  the  law  stated  in  this  chapter  that 
the  way  to  get  rid  of  an  undesirable  emotion  is  to  inhibit  its 
expression. 

5.  Why  is  revenge  always  wrong? 

6.  Arrange  the  chief  emotions  and  impulses  in  a  list,  beginning 
with  the  highest  and  most  spiritual  and  ending  with  the  lowest 
or  animal  impulses  and  emotions. 

7.  Illustrate  by  an  example  from  your  own  experience  the 
danger  of  doing  anything  to  express  one's  feelings  when  in  a 
"  fit  of  anger." 

8.  Illustrate  the  value  of  self-control  by  an  example  from 
history. 


CHAPTER  XIII 
FEELINGS   AND   IMPULSES   CLASSIFIED 

ALTHOUGH  it  is  impossible  to  reduce  all  impulses  to 
one  impulse  in  that  the  individual  is  conscious  of  any 
such  unity,  still  our  impulses  and  emotions  form  a  logi- 
cal whole,  and  we  may  infer  that  in  the  Universal  Mind 
all  striving  and  feeling  are  working  as  an  harmonious 
whole. 

The  following  classification  of  feelings  and  impulses 
is  submitted  :  - 

CLASSIFICATION  OF  FEELINGS  AND  IMPULSES 

I.  BODILY  FEELINGS  AND  ATTENDANT  IMPULSES. 

1.  Appetites. 

2.  Organic  Feelings  and  Impulses. 

II.   EMOTIONS  AND  MOTIVES  OF  SELF-PRESERVATION. 

1.  Fear  and  the  instinct  and  desire  to  hide  or  flee  from 

danger ;  courage,  defiance,  and  the  instinct  and  desire 
to  defend.  These  two  are  primary  and  fundamental. 
Love  of  adventure  is  evolved  from  these. 

2.  Anger,  hate,  jealousy,  pugnacity,  and  the  like  are  expres- 

sions of  self-preservation  in  the  personal  environment. 

III.    EMOTIONS  AND  MOTIVES  OF  SELF-EXPANSION,  OR  PROGRES- 
SIVE SELF-REALIZATION. 
1.   Motor  emotions  and  interests.     The  desire  for  motor 

expression  of  one's  self,  by  — 
(a)  destroying, 
(6)  owning, 
(c)  constructing,  etc. 

118 


Feelings  and  Impulses  Classified  119 

2.  The  intellectual  emotion  and  interest.     The  desire  to 

realize  one's  self  ideally,  to  expand  the  self  to  include 
as  much  as  possible  of  the  intellectual  realm.  (This 
is  "  interest "  in  its  usual  pedagogical  meaning.) 
Curiosity,  wonder,  the  joy  of  discovery,  scientific  interest. 

3.  The  aesthetic  emotion  and  interest.     The  desire  to  real- 

ize the  ideal.  The  love  of  beauty  and  the  interest  in 
producing  it. 

4.  Social  emotions  and  motives1  (desires,  interests,  impulses, 

instincts),  such  as  — 

(a)  Love,  sympathy,  gregariousness,  imitation,  emula- 
tion, pride,  shame,  love  of  praise,  honor,  glory. 

(6)  Pity,  contempt,  the  patronizing  feeling,  desire  to 
protect,  lead,  rule,  teach,  etc.  (felt  towards  inferiors). 

(c)  Respect,  reverence,  trust,  loyalty,  desire  to  follow, 
obey,  submit,  believe  on  authority,  etc.  (felt  towards 
superiors). 

5.  Moral  emotions  and  motives.     These  are  the  social 

emotions  and  motives  universalized.     Love  for  and 
devotion  to  — 
(a)  Purity,  (6)  honesty,  (c)  truth,  (d)  justice. 

6.  Religious   emotions    and  motives.     The  instincts,   de- 

sires, and  emotions  connected  with  our  communion 
with  the  Supreme  Being :  awe,  reverence,  devotion, 
trust,  faith,  submission,  the  instinct  and  desire  for 
worship.  Strictly  speaking,  these  are  exalted  social 
emotions  and  motives. 

DISCUSSION  OF   CLASSIFICATION 

Bodily  Feelings.  —  Class  I  is  usually  denominated 
physical  "  feelings.     But  there  is  some  objection  to 

1  We  may  also  divide  social  emotions  and  motives  into — 

(a)  Self-centered :    as,  pride,  shame,  vanity,  haughtiness, 

humility,  desire  for  and  joy  in  teaching,  leading,  in  praise,  honor. 
(6)  Society-centered:  as,  love,  sympathy,  pity,  contempt, 

respect,  reverence,  imitation,  gregariousness,  patriotism,  loyalty, 

desire  for  and  joy  in  discipleship,  obedience. 


120         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

this  term,  as  of  course  every  feeling  must  be  mental.  In 
this  class  are  included  those  feelings  which  conscious- 
ness locates  in  the  body. 

The  name  organic  given  to  the  second  group  under 
this  class  only  remotely  connotes  the  meaning,  but  a 
better  name  was  not  found.  It  is  simply  a  name  for 
all  that  is  left  of  "  physical  "  or  "  bodily  "  feelings  and 
motives,  after  the  appetites  are  subtracted. 

Every  emotion  has,  at  least  when  strong,  attendant 
bodily  feelings.  Thus,  when  one  is  afraid,  cold  shivers 
run  down  one's  back ;  when  angry,  one's  face  may  burn. 
But  that  these  mere  accompaniments  are  not  the  real 
emotion  is  readily  seen  when  we  note  that  it  is  quite 
possible  to  have  cold  shivers  without  being  afraid,  and 
a  burning  skin  without  being  angry ;  and  besides,  that 
it  is  never  this  little  byplay  of  bodily  feelings  that 
bothers  us  when  we  suffer  from  strong  emotions. 

Emotions  of  Self-realization.  —  Self-realization  may 
be  said  to  be  the  end  of  all  our  activity,  and  hence  the 
object  of  all  motives  and  the  subject  of  all  emotions. 
Self-realization  is  not  selfishness,  is  not  merely  the 
development  of  our  own  individual  self,  but  the  develop- 
ment in  us  and  through  us  of  the  Universal  Self.  This 
subject  (the  self)  will  be  discussed  further  in  a  later 
chapter. 

Our  interest  in  self-realization  divides  naturally  into 
two  parts,  above  and  below  zero,  so  to  speak.  We  are 
interested  in  keeping  what  we  have  (self-preservation) 
and  in  getting  more  (progressive  self-realization,  self- 
expansion). 

Actions  of  self-preservation  are  primary  and  funda- 
mental. They  are  biologically  the  oldest  of  all  the 


Feelings  and  Impulses  Classified  121 

motor  reactions.  To  preserve  ourselves  and  ours  from 
diminution  and  destruction  is  our  first  duty. 

When  we  are  in  the  presence  of  danger,  two  al- 
ternatives present  themselves:  escape  or  defense. 
Fear  or  courage  is  aroused.  Anger  is  often  the  name 
given  to  the  fighting  emotion,  but  anger  is  a  complex 
emotion  and  motive,  and  consists  not  merely  of  the 
motive  of  defense.  We  use  the  word  courage  ordinarily 
to  denote  an  attribute  rather  than  our  emotion  or  im- 
pulse, but  the  emotion  and  motive  corresponding  to 
courage  is  what  we  here  mean  by  courage. 

Love  of  adventure  is  a  development  from  the  impulse 
to  defend.  For  the  progress  of  the  race  it  is  necessary 
that  some  —  that  many  —  individuals  risk  life  and 
limb  in  the  conquest  of  nature  and  the  battle  against 
enemies.  Hence  the  love  of  tempting  danger  is  a  very 
prominent  impulse  in  man,  especially  in  youth.  Seldom 
was  valuable  work  for  humanity  delayed  because  of 
lack  of  daring  among  men. 

Motor  Emotions  and  Interests.  —  Man  is  interested 
in  making  himself  felt,  in  realizing  himself  in  the  phys- 
ical world,  in  extending  the  sphere  of  influence  and 
control  of  his  visible  self.  The  child  and  the  savage 
especially,  but  even  the  most  advanced  of  men,  enjoy 
making  their  own  power  felt  by  destroying.  The  child 
tears  the  newspaper,  the  boy  smashes  windows,  the 
man  hunts,  not  simply  because  he  wishes  to  destroy, 
but  because  the  joy  of  annihilating  forms  a  considerable 
element  in  the  mixture. 

Still  stronger  is  the  constructive  interest.  We  enjoy 
making  things.  What  boy  has  not  littered  up  his 
father's  workshop,  trying  to  make  ships,  guns,  steam 


122         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

engines,  crossbows?  Every  true  workman  finds  per- 
ennial joy  in  the  constructive  side  of  his  craft.  The 
constructive  interest  forms  an  indispensable  factor  in 
the  motor  power  which  keeps  the  wheels  of  industry 
turning. 

Another  strong  impulse  is  the  impulse  to  own.  The 
property  interest  lies  at  the  very  basis  of  the  social  struc- 
ture. Again  let  us  beware  of  philosophical  generaliza- 
tion. We  do  not  desire  property  simply  because  we 
wish  to  enjoy  the  use  of  it.  When  your  father  said, 
"  You  may  use  this  gun,  but  I  do  not  give  it  to  you," 
it  did  not  please  you  half  so  much  as  if  he  had  given 
you  the  gun  to  be  your  very  own.  Many  a  farmer's 
lad  has  extracted  tons  of  bliss  from  the  possession  of  a 
colt,  though  he  could  not  do  a  thing  more,  or  profit  a 
cent  more,  with  "  his  "  colt  than  with  any  other  colt 
in  the  stable.  But  it  was  Ms  colt,  and  there  was 
sweet  enjoyment  therein. 

The  Intellectual  Emotion  and  Impulse,  the  Desire  for 
Knowledge.  —  We  do  not  desire  knowledge  primarily 
because  knowledge  is  useful  and  may  be  a  means  of 
happiness,  but  we  simply  desire  knowledge.  That  is 
as  far  as  we  can  go  back  of  the  returns.  There  are  good 
biological  reasons  for  this  desire  in  the  history  of  our 
evolution,  but  of  these  we  are  not  conscious ;  we  simply 
want  to  know.  The  lower  form  of  this  impulse  when 
concerned  with  trivial  affairs  is  called  curiosity.  The 
higher  may  be  called  scientific  interest.  This  interest 
is  the  mainspring  of  the  scholar's  activity.  This  is 
mainly  responsible  for  newspapers,  gossip,  scientific 
research,  polar  expeditions,  astronomy,  and  the  major 
number  of  sentences  that  fall  from  human  lips.  Other 


Feelings  and  Impulses  Classified  123 

interests,  mainly  social,  are  inextricably  mixed  with 
the  scientific  interest,  but  in  a  very  great  section  of 
human  activity  it  is  the  main  source  of  power. 

The  ^Esthetic  Interest,  or  Impulse,  is  the  funda- 
mental efficient  cause  for  the  fine  arts,  literature,  taste 
and  refinement  in  dress,  dwellings,  and  surroundings. 
Philosophically  we  may  say  that  the  object  of  this  im- 
pulse is  harmony  and  that  it  is  our  fundamental  feeling 
of  an  impulse  from  the  great  Oneness  of  the  universe ; 
but  it  is  important  to  bear  in  mind  the  fact  that  we  have 
no  immediate  intuition  of  these  philosophic  doctrines. 
We  just  feel  a  rapture  when  in  the  presence  of  certain 
sights,  sounds,  and  thoughts,  and  are  impelled  to  seek, 
to  produce,  and  to  enjoy  certain  objects,  which  we  call 
beautiful. 

Social  Emotions.  —  Under  the  subdivision  social  we 
meet  with  a  perfect  welter  of  emotions  and  motives. 
They  are  so  numerous  and  so  important  that  any 
treatment  would  be  fragmentary.  Man  is  more  than 
an  individual.  He  belongs  to  his  fellow  men  and  with 
them  forms  a  unity.  Love,  sympathy,  fellow  feeling, 
kindness,  are  names  applied  to  this  great  main  stream 
of  emotions  and  interests  that  express  the  unity  of  all 
persons.  Closely  allied  to  these  are  the  social  impulses 
in  the  narrower  sense,  —  gregariousness,  imitation, 
sociability. 

It  may  be  noticed  that  every  social  emotion  and  im- 
pulse has  its  negative.  Thus,  love  has  hate  as  its  nega- 
tive, and  the  impulse  to  obey  has  the  impulse  to  refuse 
obedience.  The  negative  is  of  course  justified  only 
when  there  is  something  false  in  the  environment  which 
should  be  removed. 


124         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Every  social  emotion  and  impulse  has  also  a  com- 
plementary emotion  and  impulse.  Thus,  love  of  others 
is  complemented  by  love  of  self,  imitation  by  the  im- 
pulse to  be  original,  and  the  impulse  to  obey  by  the 
impulse  to  command.  Thus,  while  fashion  rules  with 
a  rod  of  iron,  few  women  would  like  to  copy  exactly 
I  the  dress  of  another.  One  of  the  fine  problems  of  char- 
^\,  \  acter  is  to  find  just  the  right  proportions  of  comple- 
jmentary  impulses. 

It  will  be  asked,  "How  can  such  purely  selfish 
emotions  as  pride,  vanity,  and  shame  be  called  social 
emotions.  In  fact,  is  not  the  expression  '  self-centered 
social  emotions  and  motives '  a  contradiction  in 
terms?" 

Pride,  vanity,  and  all  the  other  self-centered  ("self- 
ish ")  emotions  and  motives  are  here  classed  as  social 
because  they  can  find  expression  only  in  society.  A 
Robinson  Crusoe,  living  alone,  could  feel  proud  or 
humble  only  when  in  communion  with  God  or  other 
spiritual  persons,  or  when  in  memory  he  lives  in  imagi- 
nary society.  That  is  why  it  hurts  us  to  associate  with 
an  arrogant  person.  His  undue  aggrandizement  of 
himself  is  a  social  affair.  Mentally  he  abases  us  by  just 
as  much  as  he  elevates  himself.  Selfishness  is  a  social 
vice.  All  egoistic  emotions  are  necessarily  social. 

The  Moral  Interests.  —  Morality  is  not  merely  a 
matter  of  impulse,  interest,  and  emotion,  but  it  is 
partly  this.  The  moral  emotions  and  interests  are 
the  social  ones  universalized.  He  who  refrains  from 
stealing  his  friend's  property  but  who  is  not  averse  to 
filching  the  stranger's,  is  moved  by  social,  not  moral, 
impulses.  But  he  who  feels  like  treating  the  stranger's 


Feelings  and  Impulses  Classified  125 

property  rights  as  scrupulously  as  his  own  has  the 
moral  emotion  and  motive  (impulse)  of  honesty. 

Religious  Emotions  and  Interests.  —  The  emotions 
classified  as  religious  are  in  a  way  a  combination  or 
adaptation  of  other  objective  emotions.  In  this  group 
we  find  emotions  similar  to  the  social  emotions  which  we 
call  reverence  and  the  desire  to  obey,  but  here  they  are 
stronger  and  directed  toward  the  Supreme  Being. 

Love  and  devotion  to  purity,  honesty,  truth,  and 
justice,  when  called  forth  by  the  conception  of  a  divine 
mind  as  a  standard  of  these  qualities,  are  religious  emo- 
tions. 

The  aesthetic  emotions  —  love  of  beauty  and  of  har- 
mony —  play  a  part  in  religious  feeling. 

The  intellectual  interest,  the  desire  for  knowledge, 
when  directed  toward  the  mysteries  of  the  universe, 
becomes  wonder  or  awe. 

Exercises 

1.  Try  to  improve  on  the  classification  of  impulses  and  feel- 
ings given  in  this  chapter. 

2.  Give  an  example  of  each  feeling  and  impulse  mentioned  in 
the  classification. 

3.  How  can  the  same  person  at  the  same  time  have  both  the 
desire  to  lead  and  to  follow? 

4.  Pocahontas  warned  the'  English  because  they  were  her 
friends.     Was  the  motive  social  or  moral? 

5.  A  person  abstains  from  doing  wrong  because  he  fears 
punishment  after  death.     Where  would  you  class  his  motive? 

6.  Why  are  the  windowpanes  nearly  always  broken  in  vacant 
buildings  in  secluded  places  ? 

7.  What  emotion  rightly  belongs  to  the  singing  of  a  hymn? 

8.  Mrs.  A  and  Mrs.  B,  fierce  social  rivals,  had  both  ordered 
expensive  gowns  of  their  respective  dressmakers.     An  unlucky 


126         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

fate  ordained  that  the  two  gowns  were  precisely  alike.  Mrs.  A 
got  hers  first.  When  a  little  later  Mrs.  B  got  her  gown,  she  was 
heartbroken  to  find  it  was  just  like  Mrs.  A's,  and  she  convinced 
herself  that  Mrs.  A  had  in  some  way  stolen  the  design  from  Mrs. 
B's  dressmaker.  So  to  get  her  revenge  Mrs.  B  gave  her  gown 
to  her  cook,  on  condition  that  she  should  dress  in  the  gown  next 
Sunday  and  take  a  prominent  place  in  church  where  Mrs.  A 
could  not  fail  to  notice  her.  Name  the  feelings  involved. 

9.  What  emotions  and  impulses  were  involved  in  the  motives 
that  led  Benedict  Arnold  to  become  a  traitor  ? 

10.  To  what  emotions  does  Dickens  prefer  to  appeal? 

11.  Do  you  enjoy  reading  a  pathetic  story  ?    If  not,  why  do  you 
read  such  literature  ?    How  would  you  classify  this  emotion  ? 


CHAPTER  XIV 

THE   CONTROL  AND   DEVELOPMENT   OF   CER- 
TAIN IMPULSES  AND  EMOTIONS 

WHILE  all  of  our  emotions  and  impulses  can  be  in  a 
measure  controlled  and  developed,  there  are  certain 
emotional  states  which  deserve  especial  discussion  be- 
cause their  control  or  development  is  a  matter  of  vital 
importance. 

THE  EMOTIONS  OF  SELF-PRESERVATION 

Biologically  the  impulses  of  self-preservation  are 
fundamental  in  our  being.  Without  these  the  race 
could  not  have  perdured. 

In  the  presence  of  danger  there  are  two  courses  of 
action  possible;  the  first,  logically  and  historically,  is 
escape  by  hiding  or  flight.  The  impulse  and  emotion 
that  prompts  to  flight  is  fear.  This  is  the  over-shadow- 
ing impulse  of  childhood  and  of  primitive  man  and  is 
found  even  in  the  strongest  and  bravest.  No  boast 
is  vainer  and  falser  than  that  one  "  has  known  no  fear." 

The  other  course  of  action  in  the  presence  of  danger 
is  defense.  The  emotion  that  has  evolved  from  the 
primitive  impulse  to  defend  oneself  and  one's  own, 
though  in  some  respects  courage,  pugnacity,  or  the 
fighting  impulse  expresses  it  better,  may  be  called  anger. 
Self-defense  does  not  mean  only  defense  of  one's  life, 

127 


128         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

one's  mere  existence.  It  means  also  the  defense  and 
protection  of  all  that  is  one's  own :  family,  friends, 
property,  opinions,  honor,  dignity,  plans,  and  purposes. 

Anger  as  well  as  fear  belongs  to  every  normal  char- 
acter. A  milksop  who  is  incapable  of  just  indignation 
is  not  an  admirable  character.  But  in  anger  as  in  fear, 
the  more  perfectly  all  expression  of  the  emotion  is 
suppressed,  the  nearer  to  perfection  is  the  character. 

The  Physiological  Effects  of  Fear  are  primarily  a 
general  depression  of  the  activities  of  the  organism,  an 
incipient,  partial,  or  complete  paralysis.  The  first 
impulse  of  fear  is  to  hide.  The  secondary  effects  are 
stimulating,  for  the  second  impulse  of  fear  is  to  flee. 
Breathing  and  the  beating  of  the  heart  are  retarded 
at  first,  usually  to  become  much  accelerated  the  next 
moment.  Digestion  is  retarded,  or  entirely  ceases. 
The  salivary  glands  cease  to  function  in  some  cases. 
Trembling  and  shivering  set  in,  which  means  that  the 
neural  currents  are  intermittent ;  that  is,  partial  paraly- 
sis has  begun.  Pallor,  resulting  from  the  contraction 
of  the  capillary  blood  vessels,  is  one  of  the  universal 
symptoms. 

Many  insects  suffer  complete  paralysis  when  fright- 
ened. They  curl  up  their  legs  and  roll  from  their 
perch,  usually  to  a  place  of  safety.  The  fox  and  the 
opossum  are  popularly  supposed  to  sham  death  when 
they  find  flight  impossible.  It  is  more  likely,  however, 
that  such  instances  are  simply  cases  of  paralysis,  brought 
on  by  fear. 

So  we  may  say  that  nature  has  arranged  that  the 
universal  first  expression  of  fear  is  a  cessation  from  mo- 
tion. No  wiser  universal  prescription  could  have  been 


Control  of  Impulses  and  Emotions  129 

given.  The  chances  of  remaining  undiscovered  are 
many  hundred  times  better  when  one  is  still  than  when 
in  motion,  as  we  saw  when  studying  vision.  Be- 
sides, when  confronting  danger,  almost  always  the 
safest  thing  to  do  is  to  stop.  Hence  by  automatically 
making  movements  difficult  or  impossible  in  the  pres- 
ence of  danger,  nature  is  doing  on  the  average  the  best 
thing  possible  for  her  children. 

The  Suppression  of  the  Expression  of  Fear.  —  But 
after  the  first  moment  of  warning,  man,  especially 
civilized  man,  is  ill  served  by  these  physiological  effects 
of  fear.  Whether  he  decides  to  defend  himself,  to  hide, 
or  to  flee,  it  is  of  utmost  importance  to  him  that  his 
motor  system  be  as  far  as  possible  from  being  paralyzed. 
When  Mr.  Lummis  was  charged  by  his  dog,  which  was 
mad  with  hydrophobia,  his  life  depended  on  not  miss- 
ing that  one  shot  with  the  revolver.  The  reason  for 
accidents  is  almost  always  that  somebody  because  of 
fear  loses  his  presence  of  mind  and  his  ability  to  act 
instantly. 

Hence  the  rule :  Suppress  with  all  possible  effort 
every  expression  of  fear  in  yourself,  and  never  encourage 
or  favor  any  expressions  of  fear  in  your  pupils.  Raise 
the  chest.  Keep  the  head  erect.  Whistle.  Don't 
stop  and  listen  if  you  have  no  good  reason  for  so  doing, 
but  keep  right  on  with  your  work.  In  war  it  is  found 
to  be  much  more  difficult  to  maintain  the  courage  of 
a  defending  corps  which  lies  in  inactivity  behind  the 
breastworks  than  to  inspire  defiant  courage  in  the 
men  that  charge  the  same  breastworks,  though  the 
latter  position  is  much  more  dangerous. 

Fear  is  nature's  alarm  clock.    As  soon  as  we  notice 


130         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

the  alarm  ringing,  its  work  is  done,  and  the  proper 
thing  is  to  stop  the  ringing.  In  man  at  least,  intelli- 
gence should  take  the  place  of  fear  as  a  means  of  keep- 
ing out  of  danger  after  the  danger  is  known. 

The  Physiological  Effects  of  Anger  or  Pugnacity.  — 
The  physiological  expression  of  anger  is  the  opposite 
of  the  primary  physiological  expression  of  fear.  Anger 
(pugnacity)  is  the  positive  impulse  of  self-preservation, 
as  fear  is  the  negative,  and  its  expression  is  in  general 
increased  innervation.  The  heart  beats  faster,  the 
muscles  contract,  the  face  is  flushed,  the  stream  of 
thought  is  more  rapid. 

We  should  discriminate  between  anger  and  the  fight- 
ing instinct  and  emotion  as  a  whole.  Anger  in  its 
ordinary  meaning  is  only  that  peculiarly  bitter  phase 
of  the  emotion  which  we  have  when  we  believe  that 
our  adversary  from  moral  turpitude  is  doing  us  an 
injustice. 

In  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a  hundred  anger  is  a 
mark  of  narrowness  of  the  mind.  If  we  had  been 
broader  minded,  we  had  not  become  angry.  Still, 
there  is  such  a  thing  as  just  indignation.  And  it  has 
never  been  possible,  in  spite  of  teachers  and  preachers, 
to  convince  the  world  that  the  milksop  who  cannot  be 
aroused  to  anger  is  a  better  character  than  the  spirited 
man  who  brooks  no  insult.  So  we  may  as  well  admit 
that  temper,  spirit,  the  ability  to  become  indignant, 
angry,  "  mad  "  if  you  please,  is  an  element  that  should 
be  found  in  a  good  character,  but  for  all  that  its  expres- 
sion should  always  be  suppressed. 

Inhibition  of  the  Emotion  of  Anger.  —  Always  suppress 
as  far  as  possible  every  expression  of  anger.  There 


Control  of  Impulses  and  Emotions  131 

will  always  be  enough  involuntary  expression  to  save 
you  from  being  a  milksop.  Why  this  suppression? 
Because,  in  nine  hundred  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a 
thousand,  as  soon  as  the  passion  dies  down  you  will 
be  ashamed  of  what  you  did  in  expressing  your  anger. 
Especially,  unless  compelled  by  the  circumstances  of 
the  case,  observe  the  following  rules :  — 

Never  punish  a  child  when  you  are  angry. 

Never  scold,  admonish,  argue,  or  say  anything  at  all 
on  the  subject  of  your  irritation  when  angry. 

Never  make  up  your  mind  on  anything  while  angry. 

Many  devices  for  overcoming  anger  are  recorded. 
This  story  is  told  of  Lincoln  —  and  of  a  dozen  other 
great  men.  A  partner  of  his  was  terribly  indignant 
over  some  shabby  action  of  a  fellow  official.  "  Write 
him  a  letter  and  tell  him  just  what  a  mean  skunk  you 
think  he  is,"  suggested  Lincoln.  This  suggestion  was 
followed  with  alacrity.  In  the  course  of  half  an  hour 
Lincoln  was  handed  the  result,  a  letter  so  "  hot  "  that 
it  fairly  made  the  paper  crinkle.  Lincoln  smiled  and 
said,  "  You  certainly  flay  him  properly/'  and  then  put 
the  letter  into  a  pigeonhole.  "  If  you  will  hand  me 
the  letter,  Mr.  Lincoln,  I  will  mail  it,"  said  the  of- 
fended man.  "Mail  it,"  said  Lincoln;  "no  indeed! 
Let  it  rest  in  the  pigeonhole  till  to-morrow,  then  you 
may  feel  like  revising  it."  On  the  morrow,  the  of- 
fended man  took  his  letter  from  the  pigeonhole,  and 
without  a  word  tore  it  into  shreds  and  put  it  into  the 
wastebasket.  When  our  passions  are  too  strong  for 
our  wills,  such  a  device  as  that  is  a  good  crutch  for  weak 
human  nature. 

The  cure  for  anger,  or  for  the  habit  of  hot  temper,  is 


132          Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

to  stop  the  expression.  Don't  rant,  roar,  scold,  or 
swear.  Don't  strike  anybody  or  anything.  Don't 
even  double  up  your  fist,  wrinkle  your  brow,  or  grit 
your  teeth,  and  with  all  speed  get  something  else  to 
do.  This  is  warranted  to  cure  the  worst  temper  be- 
tween the  poles. 

In  the  case  of  a  child,  don't  let  it  hit  the  cat  or  the 
dog  or  even  a  chair  or  the  floor.  As  soon  as  it  is  safe 
to  do  so,  force  the  child  to  stop  crying.  I  never  saw 
a  child  under  ten  years  of  age  remain  "  mad  "  or  sad 
for  ten  minutes  after  his  "  howl  "  had  been  shut  off. 
I  have,  on  the  other  hand,  seen  children  cry  from  pure 
spunk  for  hours,  when  allowed  to  do  so.  Care  should 
be  taken  not  to  attempt  to  force  a  child  to  stop  cry- 
ing when  it  is  hysterical  or  in  a  semihysterical  condi- 
tion, for  then  this  is  demanding  the  impossible. 

Set  the  child  to  doing  and  thinking  of  something  else. 
The  child  that  sulks  or  "  flies  off  the  handle  "  should 
be  set  to  work  immediately.  That  is  why  a  sound 
whipping,  though  a  barbarous  measure,  is  not  an  un- 
scientific way  of  cooling  anger.  It  gives  the  delinquent 
something  else  to  think  about. 

THE  SOCIAL  EMOTIONS  AND  INTERESTS 

Of  all  the  emotions  and  impulses,  those  which  we 
have  termed  social  are  perhaps  the  most  important. 
Upon  the  proper  development  of  these  emotions  de- 
pends to  a  great  extent  the  character  of  an  individual. 

Imitation.  — KThe  impulse  of  imitation  is  perhaps 
the  most  primitive  and  fundamental  of  the  social  im- 
pulses.x  It  is  certainly  very  deep  in  our  nature,  and 
may  be  described  as  an  evolution  of  the  fundamental 


Control  of  Impulses  and  Emotions          133 

suggestibility  of  consciousness.    It  is  very  strong  in 
the  gregarious  animals  as  well  as  in  man. 
Qmitation  is  the  chief  teacher  of  children  up  to  the 
age  of  five  years,  and  remains  an  important  impulse 
throughout  life.     Thus,  speech  is  learned  entirely  by 
imitation.    The  child  learning  to  talk  will  repeat  dozens 
of  times  every  new  word  it  hears,  for  apparently  no 
other  reason  than  the  desire  to  imitate. 
The  chief  drivewheel  of  fashion  is  imitation.     Many 

Xw' 

other  social  impulses  and  desires,  however,  cooperate 
in  the  creation  of  this  wonderful  institution.  Choice 
of  dishes,  smoking,  drinking  of  intoxicants,  society 
manners,  the  chief  elements  of  custom  and  of  social 
atmosphere,  and  national  characteristics  have  their 
basis  in  imitation. 

Balance  between  Imitation  and  Individuality.  — 
Opposite  to  imitation  is  the  desire  for  individuality. 
One  of  the  nicest  problems  for  good  sense  and  good 
taste  is  to  keep  the  golden  mean  between  these  two 
tendencies.  To  be  oneself  a  positive,  self-balanced, 
and  in  the  true  sense  distinguished  (that  is,  individu- 
alized) personality,  and  at  the  same  time  to  be  working 
in  harmony  with  one's  age  and  people,  is  a  truly  fine 
and  noble  art. 

Sympathy.  —  The  matrix  of  society  is  sympathy, 
love,  "  charity."  The  great  heresy  of  the  psychology 
of  a  generation  ago  was  the  doctrine  that  all  altruism 
is  a  veiled  selfishness,  that  man  in  reality  never  seeks 
anything  else  than  his  own  individual  happiness.  This 
theory  is  as  false  as  it  is  sordid.  The  love  of  others,  is 
as  fundamental  in  us  as  the  love  of  self.  The  mother 
loves  and  lives  for  her  child  fully  as  much  as  for  her- 


134         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

self.  In  fact,  it  is  doubtful  if  a  perfectly  selfish  person 
ever  existed.  Your  closefisted  miser  is  generally  sav- 
ing up  money  for  his  children.  The  outcast  shares 
his  crust  with  a  pal.  The  girl  and  the  boy  just  before 
adolescence  are  just  about  as  selfish  as  ordinary  human 
beings  can  be,  but  even  they  will  oftener  than  not 
share  their  joys  with  a  friend.  This  is  all,  to  be  sure, 
explained  as  very  sophisticated  and  abstruse  selfish- 
ness, but  the  evidence  must  be  greatly  distorted  to  get 
this  result. 

The  sphere  of  sympathy  is  very  narrow  with  the 
young  child.  As  he  grows  older  his  world  expands, 
and  if  he  has  a  normal  development,  his  sympathies 
expand  with  his  world.  Your  selfish  man  is  just  a 
case  of  arrested  development.  The  child  is  cruel  to 
the  butterfly  and  the  squirrel,  because  he  does  not 
appreciate  the  suffering  he  causes. 

In  this  connection  it  is  curious  to  note  how  unde- 
veloped is  the  average  man's  sympathy  with  the 
"  finny  tribe  "  and  the  lower  forms  of  life  generally. 
Men  who  have  every  outward  appearance  of  being 
civilized  will  calmly  jab  a  hook  through  the  nose  of  a 
living  frog  or  living  minnow,  and  trail  it  through  the 
water  as  bait  during  its  death  agonies ;  and  after  catch- 
ing a  fish  let  this  die  in  torture  from  lack  of  oxygen  in 
its  drying  gills.  If  an  eye  is  torn  from  the  socket  when 
the  fish  is  released  from  the  hook,  even  this  additional 
agony  does  not  prompt  the  fisherman,  who  seems  to 
have  inherited  his  feelings  from  the  stone  age,  merci- 
fully to  kill  the  fish.  And  then  the  barbarian  will 
run  a  rod  or  chain  through  the  delicate,  sensitive 
gills  in  order  to  carry  home  his  victim. 


Control  of  Impulses  and  Emotions  135 

Importance  of  the  Education  of  the  Social  Emotions 
and  Motives.  —  Though  absolute  selfishness  is  rare  or 
impossible,  relative  selfishness  is  the  source  of  most  of 
our  woe.  Man  is  a  social  animal,  but  not  social  enough. 
Hence  it  becomes  the  duty  of  education  to  strengthen 
the  social  tendencies  of  human  nature.  The  great 
virtue  of  the  kindergarten  is  that  it  teaches  children 
to  be  social.  The  ever  present  lesson  which  children 
should  be  taught  in  school  in  every  class  and  every 
subject  is  how  to  live  together,  and  thus  to  be  success- 
ful members  of  a  community  when  they  are  grown  up. 
Even  the  games  ought  to  contribute  to  this  end. 
Games  in  which  the  individual  plays  for  his  own  ad- 
vantage alone  should  be  discouraged,  but  those  in 
which  he  plays  for  the  success  of  his  side,  his  party, 
should  be  encouraged.  The  child  should  learn  obedi- 
ence, leadership,  and  loyalty  on  the  playground. 

FATIGUE  AND  INDUSTRY 

Though  fatigue  and  industry  are  not,  properly  speak- 
ing, emotions,  the  accompanying  impulses  are  so  uni- 
versal that  it  seems  fitting  to  discuss  them  here. 

Fatigue,  the  Impulse  to  Rest.  —  The  feeling  of  fa- 
tigue (with  the  impulse  to  rest)  is  our  system's  energy 
gauge,  by  which  we  are  informed  as  to  the  amount  of 
energy  available.  But,  like  other  gauges,  it  may  be 
"set"  differently,  and  it  may  get  out  of  order. 

There  are  usually  three  points  in  a  period  of  exer- 
cise (if  carried  on  far  enough)  at  which  we  have  the 
negative  impulse  to  stop  work.  The  first  has  been 
called  the  "  tire  point."  This  is  usually  reached 
sooner  than  the  true  fatigue  point.  When  our  accus- 


136         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

tomed  daily  task  is  done,  we  feel  tired,  whether  our 
energy  is  used  up  or  not.  Hence  the  fact  that  one  is 
tired  is  no  sign  at  all  that  one  has  done  a  fair  day's 
work.  The  lady  in  the  drawing  room  may  have  as 
much  strength  as  the  scrub  woman  on  the  front  steps, 
but  for  all  that,  the  former  may  feel  just  as  tired  out 
after  an  automobile  spin  as  the  latter  after  ten  hours 
on  her  knees  scrubbing.  This  is  false  fatigue,  however, 
in  the  former's  case,  and  can  and  should  be  overcome. 
Hence  the  fact  that  we  feel  tired  is  no  evidence  that 
we  have  used  up  all  the  energy  we  should  before  we 
seek  rest. 

When  the  current  fund  of  energy  has  been  exhausted, 
we  have  reached  the  true  fatigue  point.  If  we  pass 
this,  we  begin  to  draw  on  our  reserve  energy.  Take  as 
an  example  a  person  of  sedentary  habits  walking ;  soon 
after  he  has  walked  his  accustomed  quarter  of  a  mile 
he  begins  to  feel  tired.  He  has  a  strong  impulse  to 
quit  walking.  But  if  he  persists,  he  will  find  that  his 
tired  feeling  will  soon  pass  away,  and  he  feels  as  bright 
as  ever.  He  has  his  "  second  wind."  After  a  while 
he  begins  to  feel  tired  again.  This  is  the  true  fatigue 
point,  and  he  is  wise  if  he  heeds  nature's  warning. 
But  if  he  does  not,  fchis  tired  feeling  too  will  pass  away, 
and  he  will  feel  almost  preternaturally  light  and  wiry. 
This  is  especially  true  if  he  is  under  some  great  excite- 
ment. The  work  is  now  drawing  on  his  reserve 
strength.  Wonderful  feats  have  been  performed  in 
this  "  third  wind  "  period.  A  friend  of  mine  is  a  poor 
speller,  but  after  two  o'clock  at  night  she  is  almost 
perfect  in  the  difficult  art.  Many  students  are  troubled 
with  sleepiness  the  whole  evening  until  bedtime.  Then 


Control  of  Impulses  and  Emotions          137 

if  they  persist  in  studying,  the  tired  feeling  soon  passes 
away,  and  they  are  fully  awake  and  capable  of  their 
best  work.  If  work  is  persisted  in  long  enough  after 
the  true  fatigue  point,  the  worker  arrives  finally  at 
the  point  of  exhaustion.  The  manner  of  arrival 
thither  is  different.  Normally  it  is  gradual.  Weak- 
ness steals  by  degrees  upon  the  worker.  But,  especially 
under  great  excitement,  the  worker  may  feel  at  his 
best  and  work  with  undiminished  zest  and  vigor  until 
suddenly  the  collapse  comes.  There  is  not  a  single 
erg  of  energy  left.  The  machine  stops. 

It  is  always  more  or  less  detrimental  to  work  past 
the  true  fatigue  point ;  and  when  the  exigencies  of 
life  demand  that  it  be  done,  care  should  be  taken  to 
stop  as  far  as  possible  on  the  hither  side  of  the  point 
of  exhaustion.  The  results  of  working  up  to  the  point 
of  exhaustion  are  likely  to  be  very  serious.  Physical 
breakdown,  nervous  prostration,  death,  may  be  ex- 
pected. 

The  tire  point,  or  false  fatigue  point,  is  perhaps  of 
greatest  interest  to  most  students,  for  most  of  us  are 
prone  to  stop  there  in  our  studies  and  not  work  be- 
yond it  and  get  our  "  second  wind."  There  is  a  cer- 
tain mental  inertia  even  in  the  best  of  us  at  times 
which  must  be  overcome  by  sheer  force  of  will. 

Industry,  the  Impulse  to  Work.  —  While  the  im- 
pulses to  anger,  fear,  pugnacity,  and  vanity  are  likely 
to  pass  their  proper  bounds,  if  not  inhibited,  there 
are  other  impulses  which  need  strengthening  so  that 
they  may  be  well-defined  habits  in  later  life.  One  of 
the  most  important  is  the  habit  of  industry,  the  impulse 
to  work. 


138         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Young  people  easily  get  into  the  habit  of  dawdling. 
They  acquire  the  habit  of  "  hanging  around  "  without 
anything  particular  to  do.  They  neither  work  nor 
play,  but,  in  the  expressive  slang  of  the  day,  "  just 
rubber  about."  The  cure  for  this  malady  is  simple  :  — 

Habituate  your  pupils  to  doing  with  all  their  might 
what  they  do.  Interest  them  so  much  that  there  is 
not  one  waking  moment  they  can  afford  to  lose.  And 
if  you  cannot  interest  them,  force  them  to  work  any- 
way, interest  or  no  interest.  They  should  work  with 
the  whole  soul  when  they  do  work,  and  play  with  the 
whole  soul  when  they  play. 

PERVERTED  EMOTIONAL  STATES 

We  have  learned  in  the  foregoing  that  certain  emo- 
tions and  motives  and  their  expressions  ought  to  be 
cultivated  and  others  ought  to  be  inhibited.  Our 
problem  is  further  complicated  by  the  fact  that  emo- 
tions and  motives  may  be  cultivated  in  different  di- 
rections, and  some  of  these  directions  are  detrimental 
and  produce  abnormal  results.  We  shall  now  study 
some  of  these  perverted  emotional  states. 

Sentimentality.  —  This  rather  unfortunate  word  is 
used  to  express  a  certain  exuberance  of  emotions  and 
of  expression  of  emotions,  especially  emotions  of  the 
tender  varieties.  If  certain  emotions,  like  love,  kind- 
ness, pity,  appreciation  of  the  beautiful,  of  the  noble, 
and  the  sublime,  are  good,  and  if  we  cannot  get  too 
much  of  them,  it  is  hard  to  see  at  first  what  objection 
there  can  be  to  sentimentality.  But  it  comes  to  be 
objectionable  in  this  wise.  What  the  emotions  gain 
in  exuberance,  in  hair-trigger  delicate  sensitiveness, 


Control  of  Impulses  and  Emotions  139 

they  lose  in  genuineness,  in  depth.  A  too  florid  ex- 
pression of  an  emotion  evaporates  it.  Sentimentality 
emasculates  character,  and  the  long-haired  man  and 
artistic-tempered  girl  who  go  into  sublimate  rap- 
tures over  Browning  or  an  old  master  are  almost  sure 
to  be  peevish  and  cranky  at  home,  snippish  to  superi- 
ors, and  overbearing  to  inferiors.  The  teacher  who 
cannot  talk  about  the  children  in  her  class  except  as 
lambs  and  angels,  and  to  whom  (in  public)  every- 
thing is  either  "  simply  perfect"  or  "  perfectly  simple" 
isn't  likely  to  be  good  for  much  when  real  work  and 
self-sacrifice  are  demanded.  Cultivate  deep  feelings 
rather  than  easily  excited  ones,  and  express  your  feelings 
only  sparingly  in  words  but  to  the  uttermost  in  deeds. 

Morbidity.  —  In  certain  directions  our  emotions  and 
impulses  are  easily  perverted.  We  have  a  desire  to 
dwell  in  imagination  on  the  grewsome,  horrible,  and 
ugly.  Children's  appetite  for  ghost  stories  is  an  ex- 
ample. Nothing  is  more  dangerous  than  to  satisfy 
this  morbid  desire,  especially  in  the  early  adolescent 
age.  Indulgence  in  morbid  emotions  is  a  great  corro- 
sive of  character,  and  often  produces  insanity. 

Even  the  normal  emotions  of  remorse  and  grief, 
when  dwelt  upon  and  not  kept  under  control,  may  de- 
generate into  morbidity  and  become  positively  in- 
jurious to  the  mind. 

Remorse.  —  The  ethical  value  of  remorse  is  easily 
understood.  Its  purpose  is  achieved  and  its  work  is 
done,  however,  as  soon  as  it  has  prepared  deeply  enough 
the  soil  of  the  heart  for  lasting  reform.  That  mind, 
however,  is  morbid  which  dwells  habitually  on  the 
guilty  past.  The  mind  should  be  trained  to  look 


140         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

habitually  to  the  future  and  to  take  immediate  steps 
to  realize  its  good  resolutions. 

Grief.  —  Grief  is  detrimental  to  health,  and  has  no 
practical  value.  Still,  it  would  be  unwise  to  advocate 
that  this  emotion  should  be  suppressed  as  completely 
as  possible.  Sorrow,  especially  the  sorrow  caused  by 
the  loss  of  loved  ones,  has  a  mellowing  and  refining 
influence  on  character,  removing  the  garish  common- 
place, the  crude  self-centering  of  the  spirit.  But  here, 
as  in  remorse,  care  should  be  taken  to  avoid  the  habit 
of  living  in  the  past.  The  past  should  be  a  place  to 
visit,  never  the  abode  of  the  soul.  The  living  pres- 
ent and  the  ideal  future  which  we  have  determined  to 
realize  should  be  the  dwelling  places  of  the  spirit. 

Queer,  isn't  it,  that  we  love  to  be  miserable  ?  But 
what  else  keeps  the  pathetic  in  literature?  The  effect 
of  the  pathetic  is  very  much  the  same  as  that  of  grief, 
only  in  a  smaller  degree.  Hence  it  has  a  softening, 
sensitizing  effect  on  the  soul.  But  the  enjoyment  of 
the  pathetic  may  very  easily  be  overdone.  Its  effects 
then  become  morbid. 

THE  HYGIENE  OF  THE  EMOTIONS 

Emotions  cannot  live  without  expression.  They  can, 
however,  live  on  almost  any  kind  of  expression.  But 
a  healthy  state  of  mind  can  be  acquired  and  maintained 
only  by  giving  our  emotions  their  proper  expression 
along  the  lines  of  useful  and  normal  activity. 

Always  give  your  good  emotions  a  practical  and  useful 
expression  in  deeds  at  the  earliest  possible  opportunity. 
And  don't  wait  for  this  opportunity.  Make  it.  As 
Professor  James  says :  "  Let  the  expression  be  the 


Control  of  Impulses  and  Emotions  141 

least  thing  in  the  world  —  speaking  genially  to  one's 
grandmother,  or  giving  up  one's  seat  in  a  car,  if  noth- 
ing more  heroic  offers  —  but  let  it  not  fail  to  take  place." 
This  being  satisfied  with  having  good  emotions  with- 
out giving  them  expression  is  a  fearfully  prevalent 
disease  in  our  days,  and  is  facilitated  by  literature  and 
the  drama.  In  the  story  and  the  play  we  are  brought 
in  sympathy  with  a  host  of  personalities  which  it  is 
impossible  for  us  to  help  or  harm.  We  find  this  a 
cheap  way  of  enjoying  the  generous  emotions.  So  we 
pity,  love,  and  sympathize  with  the  imaginary  char- 
acters on  the  stage  or  in  the  novel,  bask  in  the  gener- 
ous warmth  of  our  own  emotions,  pat  ourselves  on  our 
metaphorical  backs  for  being  such  sensitive,  good- 
hearted  persons  —  and  let  the  real,  unfortunate  neigh- 
bors of  ours  suffer  without  our  aid. 

The  bookworm,  the  traditional  scholar  and  pro- 
fessor, the  artist,  the  musician,  the  actor,  are  characters 
that  are  especially  liable  to  this  disease.  In  fact,  our 
complex  civilization  with  its  multitude  of  stimuli 
and  its  limitation  of  avenues  of  reaction  favors  every- 
where this  do-nothing  attitude.  Modern  man  tends 
to  become  a  man  of  words  and  vain  speculations. 

It  is  then  our  duty  to  make  special  efforts  to  resist 
this  dry  rot  of  character.  Never  let  a  desirable  emo- 
tion pass  away  without  giving  it  some  active  expres- 
sion. If  you  cannot  save  the  heroine  of  the  play, 
make  some  real,  even  if  trifling,  sacrifice  for  your  neigh- 
bor. Take  an  interest  in  the  institutions  of  civiliza- 
tion around  you,  churches,  charitable  societies,  social 
clubs,  commercial  clubs,  social  settlements,  and  what 
not.  Let  your  interest  be  unselfish  and  broad,  and 


142         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

then  act  on  it.  Do  something  for  humanity,  remem- 
bering that  "  one  of  the  least  of  these,  my  brethren  " 
is  just  as  truly  humanity  as  the  Son  of  Man  himself. 

Men  engaged  in  occupations  that  do  not  call  for 
much  exercise  of  the  motive  side  of  the  soul,  as  authors, 
teachers,  scientists,  and  in  a  lesser  degree  other  pro- 
fessional men,  whose  motor  (will)  power  is  exercised 
mostly  in  a  routine  fashion,  should  have  some  secondary 
occupation  which  brings  their  active  side  into  use. 
A  year  off  now  and  then  spent  in  politics,  exploration, 
merchandising,  or  some  form  of  manual  labor  would 
tend  to  keep  their  souls  from  drying  out,  and  preserve 
virility  in  character. 

To  maintain  virility  and  vitality  of  emotions  and 
genuineness  and  sincerity  of  character,  always  let 
action  follow  every  good  emotion,  and  let  the  distance 
between  emotion  and  action  be  as  short  as  possible. 

Exercises 

i.  Give  examples  from  history  of  each  of  the  emotions  dis- 
cussed in  this  chapter. 

2..  Formulate  into  a  terse  statement  the  law  of  control  of 
emotions,  impulses,  and  desires  by  their  expression. 

3.  State    some    peculiarity  or  practical  observation   about 
each  of  the  emotions  discussed  in  this  chapter. 

4.  Add  some  point  of  value  to  the  discussion  of  some  topic 
in  this  chapter. 

5.  What  can  you  say  in  favor  of  and  against  building  air- 
castles  ? 

6.  John  is  afraid  of  the  dark.    Once,  at  night,  when  half  a  mile 
from  home,  he  thought  he  saw  something  white  coming  after 
him.     He  began  to  walk  a  little  faster,  because  he  was  afraid. 
How  did  he  end  his  adventure?     Why? 

7.  Bill  didn't  mean  to  have  a  fight  with  Tom,  and  he  only 


Control  of  Impulses  and  Emotions  143 

struck  Tom's  cheek  with  a  spitball  "  for  fun."  Tom  was  not 
angry,  just  slightly  irritated,  so  he  turned  to  Bill  and  said 
sharply,  "  Quit  that,  will  you?"  Quoth  Bill,  "  I'll  quit  when  I 
choose  to."  "  Oh !  cut  that  out,  or  you  will  be  sorry,"  retorts 
Tom  hotly.  Conclude  the  story,  and  discuss  its  psychology. 

8.  Give  some  device  for  encouraging  industry  in  children. 

9.  What  do  you  think  of  Poe's  stories  as  literature  for  school 
use? 

10.   At  what  age  are  we  most  likely  to  be  sentimental  ?     Give 
an  example. 


CHAPTER  XV 
CULTURE 

THE  Hand,  the  Head,  and  the  Heart!  To  do, 
to  know,  and  to  appreciate !  These,  as  we  have  seen, 
form  the  triangle  of  education.  He  who  does  some- 
thing skillfully,  knows  an  art;  he  who  knows  anything 
systematically  and  organically,  possesses  a  science; 
he  who  feels  with  developed  appreciation  is  in  pos- 
session of  —  what?  There  is  no  universally  accepted 
term,  but  the  best  candidate  for  the  place  seems  to  be 
the  word  culture. 

The  term  "  the  fine  arts  "  is  unfortunate  in  this 
connection.  The  fine  arts  are  more  than  arts;  they 
have  a  cultural  value  as  well.  The  question  is  not 
simply  about  something  to  be  done,  but  also  and  chiefly 
about  something  to  be  appreciated.  Our  business  in 
aesthetic  education  is  chiefly  with  this  element.  Not 
"  Can  the  pupil  produce  something  beautiful?  "  but 
"  Can  the  pupil  enjoy  the  higher  and  purer  form  of 
beauty?  "  should  be  with  us  the  greater  question. 

THE  INNER  SIDE  OF  EXPERIENCE 

The  inner,  or  subjective  aspect  of  every  mental 
event  is  a  feeling.  The  outer,  or  objective  aspect  is 
the  thought.  Thus,  in  reading  a  poem  I  am  thinking 
the  poet's  thoughts  after  him.  This  is  thinking,  the 

144 


Culture  145 

objective  side  of  what  happens  in  my  mind.  But  at 
the  same  time  my  soul  burns  with  the  emotions  evoked 
by  the  poem.  This  is  the  subjective,  or  inner  side  of 
my  experience. 

Thought  and  Feeling  Contrasted.  —  Thoughts  are 
common  property.  When  not  led  astray  by  its  feel- 
ings, every  sane  mind  must  get  the  same  conclusion 
from  the  same  premises,  if  it  thinks  at  all.  The  philos- 
opher will  say  that  it  is  not  I,  but  Universal  Man 
that  thinks  in  and  through  me  when  I  say  that  2x2  =  4. 
We  do  not  make  truth,  we  simply  discover  it ;  it  is  not 
our  individual  property,  it  belongs  to  the  race,  nay, 
to  all  Mind. 

Feelings,  on  the  other  hand,  are  the  individual's 
own.  We  can  be  quite  certain  that  two  persons  never 
yet  had  precisely  the  same  feelings.  That  as  a  gen- 
eral rule  we  can  foretell  how  an  event  will  affect  nine 
out  of  ten  persons  depends  simply  on  the  fact  that 
individuals  are  so  much  alike. 

The  Pedagogy  of  Feeling  and  the  Pedagogy  of 
Science.  —  As  a  result,  the  pedagogy  of  feeling  pre- 
sents a  difficulty  unknown  to  the  pedagogy  of  science. 
In  all  science  there  is  little  danger  of  going  wrong  in 
one's  development ;  and  in  pure  science  there  is  abso- 
lutely none.  One  either  thinks  right  or  not  at  all. 
Either  you  get  algebra,  or  you  don't;  you  can't  get 
perverted  algebra.  But  in  the  realm  of  our  emotions 
we  know  of  no  unquestioned  standard.  Hence  the 
opportunity  for  heresies  and  perversions  is  unbounded. 
That  your  emotional  nature  is  fast  developing  and  get- 
ting an  education  is  not  necessarily  a  good  thing. 
You  may  be  evolving  in  the  wrong  direction.  A  dili- 


146         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

gent  education  may  result  in  bad  and  perverted  taste 
just  as  readily  as  in  good  taste. 

THE  NORM 

There  is  difficulty  in  getting  a  norm,  or  standard, 
for  our  emotions.  Some,  in  fact,  assert  that  there 
is  none.  They  insist  that  every  one  has  a  right  to  like 
what  he  pleases.  This  has  found  expression  in  the 
familiar  Latin  proverb :  De  gustibus  non  disputandum. 
Most  of  us,  however,  will  agree  that  this  is  the  very 
opposite  of  the  truth.  There  should  be  discussion 
about  tastes. 

That  which  is  injurious  to  the  preservation  or  de- 
velopment of  man  as  an  individual  and  society  is  in 
bad  taste.  This  will  be  admitted  without  discussion. 
The  Chinese  dwarfed  feet,  social  pleasures  that  include 
intoxication,  indecent  pictures,  and  lascivious  literature 
are  all  in  bad  taste,  because  they  are  injurious  to  the 
physical  and  moral  health  of  man. 

That  which  does  not  harmonize  with  its  purpose 
is  in  bad  taste.  A  bonnet  is  meant  to  protect  the  head 
from  sun  and  cold.  If  it  does  not  do  this,  but  is  a  mere 
excuse  for  the  display  of  trimmings,  it  is  in  bad  taste. 

We  dare  not  say  that  what  is  unnatural  is  always  in 
bad  taste  or  that  the  natural  is  without  exception  in 
good  taste,  for  man  when  civilized  is  an  unnatural 
animal.  It  is  natural  to  satisfy  the  appetites  when  one 
has  the  opportunity ;  and  the  child  and  the  savage  act 
in  this  respect  naturally.  But  in  spite  of  this,  it  would 
not  be  "  good  form  "  for  one  when  invited  to  dinner 
to  rush  to  the  table  and  gorge  oneself  as  soon  as  the 
opportunity  offered. 


Culture  147 

We  dare  say,  however,  that  all  that  is  cmfo'natural 
is  ugly  and  depraved,  for  what  is  antinatural  is  also 
in  disharmony  with  its  purpose. 

These  rules,  however,  touch  only  the  rim  of  the 
subject ;  they  tell  us  of  some  things  that  are  not  in  good 
taste.  There  is  not,  in  fact,  nor  can  there  be  from  the 
very  nature  of  the  case,  any  formulated  standard  of 
good  taste  that  is  absolutely  infallible  and  applicable 
to  all  cases.  We  have  to  fall  back  on  this  principle : 
That  is  in  good  taste  which  strong,  healthy,  and  symmetri- 
cally developed  minds  find  agreeable  and  enjoyable. 

In  the  application  of  this  rule  comes  the  rub.  We 
can  apply  only  rule-of-thumb  standards  in  determining 
what  is  healthy  and  symmetrical.  On  this  score  the 
opinions  of  mankind  are  continually  changing,  —  we 
hope  in  a  direction  towards  absolute  truth. 

The  standard  of  good  taste  applied  by  the  masses  is 
simply  public  opinion.  This  changes  continually.  No 
better  proof  of  this  could  be  demanded  than  the  con- 
stant fluctuations  of  fashion.  How  atrociously  ugly 
are  the  fashions  of  ten  years  ago !  Ten  years  hence  the 
same  will  be  said  of  the  fashions  of  to-day !  Still,  we 
hope  that  the  history  of  fashion  shows  progress  toward 
better  things. 

AN  ANALYSIS  OF  CULTURE 

The  result  of  the  training  of  the  feelings  is  called 
culture.  Refinement  is  almost  a  synonym.  True 
culture  may  be  thus  analyzed :  — 

(a)  Sensitiveness.  Feelings,  whether  lower  or  higher, 
come  in  response  to  a  stimulus.  The  more  alive  we 
are,  the  more  fully  organized  we  are,  the  less  stimulus 


148         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

it  takes  to  "  set  us  off."  Other  things  being  equal,  the 
more  sensitive  a  person  is,  the  more  cultured  he  is. 
The  healthily  cultured  person  is  easily  touched  by 
the  sight  of  misery.  He  need  not  see  a  person  on 
the  point  of  dying  of  starvation  to  be  moved  to 
compassion. 

(b)  Balance.      The  truly  cultured  person  does  not 
go  to  extremes.    He  keeps  his  balance  and  his  bearings. 
There  is  a  quiet  dignity  about  him  which  forbids  emo- 
tional excesses. 

(c)  Animal  nature  under  control.    The  substratum 
of  man  is  animal.    The  very  essence  of  boorishness,  of 
lack  of  culture,  is  lack  of  control  of  the  animal  in  man. 
It  is  a  false  culture  which  would  eliminate  the  animal  in 
man.    This  was  the  ideal  of  the  society  woman  in  the 
middle  part  of  the  nineteenth  century,  an  ethereal, 
fragile  creature  who  "  partook  of  food  "  solely  from  a 
sense  of  duty,  and  tried  to  forget  that  she  had  muscles. 
The  healthy  taste  of  mankind  revolts  at  such  unnatural- 
ness.    But  the  lower  nature,  though  strong,  should  be 
bridled,  and  the  reins  should  always  be  in  the  hand  of 
our  spiritual  nature.    Hence  the  dinner  table  is  a  fine 
test  of  refinement.    Gourmandizing  is  proof  positive 
of  lack  of  culture.    Here  a  curious  psychological  fact 
meets  us.    Boorish  behavior  observed  in  another  is 
sure  to  disgust  a  person  of  any  refinement.     But  even 
persons  of  considerable  culture  fail  to  notice  anything 
particularly  disgusting  in  their  own  transgressions  of 
this  character.    The  test  of  culture  is  that  the  truly 
refined  person  has  himself  so  well  in  hand,  and  is  so 
thoughtful  of  the  feelings  of  others,  that  he  will  keep  the 
reins  on  himself  taut  all  the  time. 


Culture  149 

(d)  A  taste  for  the  simple  as  well  as  for  the  complex. 
The  barbarian  can  enjoy  the  simple  and  obvious  only. 
His  literature  is  strong  and  direct,  and  deals  with  the 
primary  passions  and  impulses  of  men  as  manifested 
in  a  simple  unsophisticated  society.  But  as  mankind 
advances  in  culture,  it  becomes  interested  in  the  subtler, 
the  more  complex,  forces  and  phases  of  human  nature, 
and  in  the  more  complicated  situations  that  advanced 
civilized  society  presents.  It  advances  from  Victor 
Hugo,  Dickens,  and  Moliere,  who  deal  with  elementary 
obvious  human  nature,  to  Balzac,  Henry  James,  and 
Walter  Pater,  who  conduct  us  through  labyrinths  of 
psychic  phenomena. 

But  that  man  is  narrow  and  one-sided  in  his  culture 
who  has  lost  his  interest  in  the  open  highways  of  the 
soul,  for  the  lure  of  its  mysterious  byways.  The  well- 
balanced  man  always  retains  a  supreme  interest  in  the 
direct  and  ingenuous  side  of  human  nature.  This 
artificial  overculture  which  can  no  longer  enjoy  folk 
songs  and  tales  of  adventure,  but  must  needs  have  only 
grand  opera  and  novels  of  psychological  analysis  is 
just  as  narrow  as  its  opposite,  —  frank  ignorance  of 
higher  art,  —  and  what  is  worse,  is  unnatural.  Igno- 
rance is  simply  lack  of  development ;  the  man  of  arti- 
ficial, superfine  discriminations  is  the  product  of  a 
wrong  development. 

MEANS  OF  ACQUIRING  CULTURE 

Value   of   Interests   outside    of   One's    Vocation. — 

Where  should  we  seek  for  the  means,  the  training,  that 
will  give  us  the  right  kind  of  culture? 
It  is  a  popular  dictum  to-day  that  every  occupation, 


150         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

every  study  has  its  culture  value,  and  that  it  is  there- 
fore a  waste  of  time  to  study  anything  merely  for  culture. 
Every  one  is  urged  to  find  his  culture  in  his  vocation. 
Latin  and  Greek,  literature,  music  and  art  are  super- 
fluous ;  for,  it  is  said,  one  may  gain  just  as  much  culture 
in  bookkeeping  or  dentistry  or  mining. 

Now,  it  is  true  that  most  fields  of  human  activity 
have  some  cultural  value,  and  it  is  most  true  that  we  do 
not  appreciate  enough  the  cultural  value  of  common 
and  near  things  and  vocations ;  but  it  is  decidedly  not 
true  that  all  occupations  are  equal  in  culture  value. 
The  factory  worker,  the  miner,  and  in  fact  the  majority 
of  the  rank  and  file  of  the  industrial  army  have  to  spend 
their  working  hours  in  surroundings  and  activities  that 
are  often  bare  of  nourishment  to  the  soul.  They  need 
some  interests  outside  and  above  their  daily  drudgery, 
and  their  education  ought  to  be  broad  enough  to  furnish 
them  with  an  opportunity.  And  even  those  of  us  who, 
like  the  musician  and  the  architect,  have  vocations  that 
are  surcharged  with  interest,  whose  workaday  atmosphere 
is  full  of  culture,  should  make  it  a  practice  to  have  some 
interest  outside  of  our  vocations  to  save  our  minds  from 
getting  stale.  No  man  is  more  tiresome  than  he  who 
talks  shop  all  the  time.  The  farmer  who  cannot  talk 
about  anything  but  crops,  the  teacher  who  always  talks 
pedagogy,  the  lawyer  who  always  speaks  as  if  he  were 
addressing  a  jury,  what  insufferable  bores  they  are  to  us ! 
And  then  think  what  thrice  insufferable  bores  they  must 
be  to  themselves!  We  all  need  a  wider  culture  than 
that  which  appertains  merely  to  our  vocation.  The 
idea  that  from  whatever  we  study  and  do,  if  we  can  be 
interested  in  it,  if  we  appreciate  it,  we  gain  just  as  much 


Culture  151 

culture  as  from  anything  else,  is  false,  because  it  does 
make  a  difference  what  we  appreciate.  The  person  who 
can  appreciate  nothing  higher  than  a  beefsteak  is  not 
as  cultured  as  he  who  appreciates  music.  And  more, 
the  appreciation  of  music  is  no  substitute  for  the  ap- 
preciation of  nature.  He  has  not  entered  upon  his  full 
human  heritage  who  has  failed  to  find  something  to 
appreciate  in  every  department  of  his  soul. 

Value  of  a  Broad  Education.  —  The  old  American 
idea  and  ideal  of  education,  of  a  broad  and  liberal  cul- 
ture, is  after  all  the  right  one.  The  notion  that  each 
one  of  us  shall  find  his  culture  exclusively  in  his  own 
narrow  occupation  is  a  reaction  to  the  Hindu  caste 
system.  No  person  can  be  said  to  have  a  liberal  cul- 
ture who  is  not  trained  in  language,  in  literature,  in 
mathematics,  in  the  natural  sciences,  and  in  the  social 
sciences.  Just  how  big  the  dose  should  be  in  each 
department  is  another  question,  but  any  education 
which  allows  the  pupil  to  grow  up  ignorant  of  any  of 
these  lines  of  culture  has  failed  in  its  mission.  Right 
here  let  me  say  that  Latin  and  Greek  cannot  be  sneered 
out  of  higher  liberal  education  by  the  argument  that 
they  are  useless  subjects  in  the  practical  world ;  for  in 
the  narrow  sense  of  the  vocationalist  every  subject  in 
the  high  school  course  is  just  as  useless  as  is  Latin. 
Not  one  pupil  in  one  hundred  except  those  who  become 
teachers  will  ever  get  any  practical  use  from  his  algebra, 
history,  or  nine  tenths  of  his  geography  and  arithmetic. 
Only  those  who  become  farmers  will  have  any  practical 
use  for  what  they  learn  of  agriculture.  Manual  train- 
ing will  be  of  no  direct  practical  use  even  to  the  pupil 
who  is  to  spend  his  life  as  a  carpenter  or  furniture  maker, 


152         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

for  the  operations  in  building  houses  are  quite  different 
from  those  employed  in  the  school  shop  in  making  a 
pin  tray,  and  the  modern  furniture  maker  works  en- 
tirely with  machinery.  Now,  I  am  not  saying  that 
every  high  school  pupil  should  study  Latin,  or  even 
that  any  Latin  should  be  taught  there  at  all ;  but  I  say 
only  that  the  attack  on  Latin  that  is  now  being  made  is 
not  rational.  And  then  let  me  whisper  this  to  you: 
Nine  tenths  of  those  who  attack  the  so-called  classics 
in  high  school  and  college  are  those  who  never  studied 
the  classics  themselves  beyond  a  miserly  high  school 
course,  and  perhaps  not  even  that.  Before  a  man  is 
allowed  to  set  himself  up  as  a  judge  to  condemn  the 
classics  he  should  be  required  to  translate  at  sight,  say, 
a  chapter  of  Tacitus.  A  great  silence  would  fall  on 
the  arena  of  classical  onslaught. 

Exercises 

1.  What  is  there  worthy  of  the  appreciation  of  a  truly  cul- 
tured person  in  your  present  surroundings? 

2.  Culture  may  be  divided  into  aesthetic  and  social  culture. 
In  what  does  social  culture  consist? 

3.  What  is  aesthetic  culture? 

4.  Mention  some  social  gathering  you  have  lately  attended, 
the  purpose  of  which  was  mainly  social  enjoyment,  and  hence  an 
expression  of  social  culture. 

5.  What  was  your  most  recent  school  exercise  in  aesthetic 
culture  ? 


CHAPTER  XVI 

HABIT 
THE  PHYSICAL  BASIS  OF  HABIT 

THE  most  fruitful  theory  of  physiological  psychology 
is  that  of  the  physical  basis  of  habit  and  memory. 
When  a  current  of  neural  energy  passes  through  a 
nerve  center,  it  leaves  an  impression,  a  trace,  a  "  path  " 
behind.  When  the  next  current  comes  to  the  same 
region,  other  things  being  equal,  it  will  follow  the  path 
of  the  former  current,  unless  otherwise  directed  by  the 
will.  For  every  current  that  passes  over  the  "  path," 
the  "path"  becomes  deeper  and  more  marked,  and 
the  stronger  must  the  conflicting  force  be  to  divert  the 
current  from  the  beaten  track.  As  our  actions  are  de- 
termined by  the  course  that  the  motor  neural  currents 
take  through  the  nerve  centers,  this  is  evidently  the 
physical  basis  of  habit. 

Care  should  be  taken,  however,  to  note  that  this  idea 
of  paths  in  the  nerve  centers  is  entirely  theoretical. 
There  is  no  evidence  from  dissection  or  microscopy  to 
sustain  it.  And  though  the  evidence  as  to  the  existence 
of  these  paths  is  very  satisfactory,  we  have  not  even  a 
theory  as  to  the  nature  of  the  paths.  All  we  know  even 
by  circumstantial  evidence  is  that  currents  tend  to 
follow  the  paths  of  former  currents,  and  that  the  more 
a  "  path  "  has  been  traveled,  the  stronger  is  the  prob- 
ability that  the  next  current  will  take  it. 

153 


154         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

THE  TWO  CLASSES  OF  HABITS 

Motive  Habits.  —  Two  fundamentally  distinct  men- 
tal phenomena  are  known  under  the  name  of  habit. 
Acquired  appetites  and  other  acquired  desires  are 
called  habits,  as  for  example  the  drink  habit,  hot  tem- 
per, a  taste  for  literature,  cleanliness.  These  are  im- 
pulses to  action  and  hence  furnish  motor  energy  for 
action.  These  we  may  call  motive  habits. 

Technical  Habits.  —  Skating,  bicycling,  the  skill  of 
the  oculist,  the  art  of  the  bricklayer  and  the  blacksmith, 
are  not,  strictly  speaking,  motives  for  action  at  all. 
There  is  no  impulse  in  his  skill  which  drives  the  skater 
to  skate.  His  desire  to  skate  is  quite  distinct  from 
his  knowledge  of  skating.  Still,  thus  far  even  such  skill 
is  an  impulse ;  when  he  begins  to  skate,  every  movement 
will  become  a  stimulus  for  the  next.  Hence  even  these 
habits  may  be  called  impulses.  But  not  in  our  ordinary 
sense.  There  is  no  moral  motive  power  in  them. 
Habit  when  equivalent  to  skill  or  art  means  simply  a 
certain  coordination  of  muscular  movements,  and  has 
no  emotional  value  or  motive  force  as  have  the  true 
motive  habits,  such  as  the  habit  of  intemperance.  Let 
us  call  these  habits,  then,  technical  habits. 

Often  the  two  classes  are  mixed  or  rather  coupled  with 
one  another.  Thus,  we  say  a  person  has  the  habit  of 
gambling  with  cards.  He  has  a  desire  for  gambling, 
and  he  has  skill  in  playing  cards.  But  it  is  evident 
that  the  two  are  actually  distinct  affairs. 

Happily  for  the  simplicity  of  psychology,  the  laws 
of  the  two  lie  quite  parallel,  .so  that  with  one  or  two 
exceptions  we  may  easily  discuss  them  together. 


Habit  155 

FUNCTION  OF  HABIT  IN  THE  ECONOMY  OF  LIFE 

Without  habit  we  should  be  doomed  to  spend  our 
lives  on  trifles.  The  mechanical  business  of  living, 
dressing  and  undressing,  walking,  eating,  and  the  like, 
is  very  considerable  in  amount  and  very  complex  in 
nature.  To  this  must  be  added  the  mechanical  element 
in  one's  vocation.  Think  of  all  the  complicated  move- 
ments a  housewife,  a  blacksmith,  or  a  tailor  must  exe- 
cute in  a  day.  If  every  movement  had  to  be  directed 
in  detail  by  consciousness,  our  attention  would  have 
enough  to  do  with  a  small  fraction  of  the  mechanical 
routine  of  life. 

Again,  it  is  not  possible  to  coordinate  activities  as 
perfectly  when  directed  by  attention  as  when  done 
from  babit.  The  trained  penman,  pianist,  or  athlete 
can  produce  more  perfect  results  than  any  one  who 
tries  to  do  the  same  thing  with  conscious  attention. 

That  which  has  become  habitual  is  educated  out  of 
consciousness  into  subconsciousness.  Hence  the  meas- 
ure of  perfection  of  a  habit  as  skill  is  the  absolute  ab- 
sence of  the  necessity  of  attention. 

Habit  an  Acquired  Impulse.  —  The  story  of  habit  is 
just  the  reverse  of  that  of  native  reactions.  The  native 
impulses  start  as  subconscious  and  "  blind,"  and  gradu- 
ate later  as  desires  in  full  consciousness  and  with  con- 
scious purpose.  When  we  first  practice  an  art,  on  the 
other  hand,  we  are  painfully  conscious  of  the  whole 
thing,  including  the  purpose ;  but  by  degrees  our  atten- 
tion can  leave  the  subject  until  finally  the  acts  may  be 
performed  as  mechanically  as  reflex  action. 

In  man's  almost  boundless  capacity  for  forming  arti- 


156         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

ficial  reactions  —  habits  —  he  has  a  tremendous  supe- 
riority over  the  lower  animals,  which  have  a  very  limited 
ability  to  form  habits,  that  is,  to  acquire  new  reactions. 

LAWS  OF  HABIT 

Fundamental  Law  of  Habit.  —  Since  the  nerve  centers 
are  living  matter,  the  cells  of  which  they  are  composed 
are  continually  being  renewed.  Worn-out  tissue  is 
being  removed  and  new  tissue  put  in  its  place.  In  so 
doing,  the  tendency  in  living  matter  is  slowly  to  ob- 
literate any  changes  from  the  normal.  The  "  paths  " 
are  slowly  obliterated,  and  we  start  to  forget  a  habit 
the  moment  we  have  formed  it.  Hence  the  necessity 
of  constant  practice  for  the  pianist,  for  example,  to 
maintain  his  skill. 

Thus,  the  fundamental  law  of  habit  formation  is  very 
simple :  Practice;  and  the  fundamental  law  of  habit 
breaking  is :  Quit. 

There  is  one  way  and  only  one  in  which  to  acquire 
a  habit.  It  is  by  practice,  repetition  of  the  act  itself. 
Only  by  skating  can  one  learn  to  skate,  only  by  getting 
into  the  water  and  pawing  about  with  arms  and  feet 
can  one  learn  to  swim.  Reading  about  bicycles  and 
bicycling  will  never  teach  us  how  to  ride  a  "  wheel," 
and  the  study  of  all  the  Latin  grammar  in  the  world 
will  never  teach  us  how  to  write  Latin.  Fit  faber 
fabricando.  Only  by  doing  do  we  learn  to  do. 

This  is  not  denying  that  it  is  profitable  and  wise  to 
study  about  the  subject  and  to  get  as  much  theory  as 
possible.-  It  is  well  to  know  which  side  of  the  skate 
should  be  up,  and  what  is  the  proper  way  to  splash  in 
the  water  when  swimming.  It  pays  to  study  psy- 


Habit  157 

chology  and  method  before  attempting  to  teach ;  but 
don't,  please  don't  think  you  know  how  to  teach 
because  you  can  theorize  ever  so  beautifully  about 
it.  But  to  know  the  theory  of  teaching  will  shorten 
your  apprenticeship  and  save  you  from  many  mis- 
takes. 

When  asked  how  he  acquired  his  marvelous  skill  as 
a  surgeon  the  famous  oculist  replied,  "  By  spoiling 
a  peck  of  eyes."  By  careful  study  the  number  of  eyes 
sacrificed  may  be  lessened,  and  by  neglect  of  theory 
the  peck  of  eyes  may  easily  grow  into  a  bushel. 

The  negative  side  of  the  rule  likewise  admits  of  no 
exception.  It  is  absolutely  necessary  to  abandon  the 
practice  that  one  wishes  to  unlearn.  To  be  sure,  medi- 
cal science  may  cure  the  appetite  for  liquor  by  medicine, 
but  even  then  it  is  necessary  to  stop  drinking. 

It  seems  well  established  that  it  is  possible  to  get  rid 
of  a  motive  habit  in  an  instant.  There  are  many  seem- 
ingly well-authenticated  cases  of  persons  who  have  been 
reformed  in  an  instant  by  religious  conversion  —  not 
simply  so  that  they  got  new  ideals,  but  so  that  they 
actually  lost  instantaneously  their  depraved  appetites 
and  desires.  Cases  of  great  psychic  shocks  seem  some- 
times to  produce  the  same  result. 

Even,  however,  though  we  admit  the  possibility  of 
losing  an  undesirable  habit  in  an  instant,  it  remains 
true  that  the  ordinary  way  of  getting  rid  of  a  bad  desire 
(motive  habit)  and  the  only  way  of  getting  rid  of  a  bad 
technical  habit  (for  example,  poor  penmanship)  is  the 
slow  return  to  the  normal,  the  slow  re-formation  of 
the  reactions  which  nature  provides  when  we  cease  to 
practice  the  habit. 


158         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Secondary  Laws.  —  There  are  many  canny  and 
shrewd  observations  made  by  moralists,  preachers, 
and  psychologists  on  the  subject  of  our  habits.  Here 
are  a  few: — 

(a)  Prepare  to  pass  safely  over  the  critical  period. 
It  is  easy  to  act  on  a  good  resolution  just  after  it  is 
made.  To  those  who  are  addicted  to  New  Year's 
resolutions  the  first  of  January  is  a  saintly  day.  But 
this  cannot  be  said  of  the  second  of  January.  When  the 
emotion  that  accompanied  the  resolution  passes  away, 
as  it  must,  then  comes  the  critical  period.  The  habit 
is  not  yet  established,  it  is  foreign  to  our  being,  and 
there  is  no  emotional  support.  When  the  smoker 
resolves  to  stop  smoking,  it  is  "  dead  easy  "  to  refrain 
the  first  day,  and  perhaps  even  the  first  month.  But 
soon  the  time  comes  when  the  holy  ardor  of  reform  is 
gone,  but  the  desire  for  a  smoke  is  still  as  strong  as 
ever.  Then  the  good  resolution  is  generally  shattered. 

If  you  really  want  to  stop  smoking,  prepare  to  pass 
over  this  critical  period.  Tell  all  your  friends  of  your 
resolution,  and  brag  of  your  strong  will  power.  Wager 
with  some  one  to  forfeit  a  goodly  sum  if  you  once  more 
touch  the  weed.  Stay  as  much  as  possible  in  company 
and  in  places  where  smoking  is  out  of  the  question. 
Don't  keep  tobacco  in  the  house. 

(&)  Make  no  exceptions.  Exceptions  are  expensive. 
When  breaking  an  old  habit  especially,  exceptions  are 
more  than  expensive.  They  are  fatal.  When  we  stop 
practicing  a  habit  the  old  habit  channels  are  slowly 
filling  up.  But  here  comes  an  "  exception  "  along  the 
old  channel,  sweeping  it  clear  with  one  "  flushing." 
Innumerable  instances  might  be  related,  like  that  of 


Habit  159 

John  B.  Gough,  of  persons  addicted  to  liquor  who,  after 
years  of  abstinence,  in  a  weak  moment  have  taken  "  just 
one  glass."  Instantly  the  poor  fellow  is  back  in  the 
bonds  of  the  drink  habit.  The  one  exception  has  de- 
stroyed all  that  years  of  abstinence  have  built  up,  and 
opened  up  the  neural  channels  of  a  depraved  appetite. 

(c)  Take  every  opportunity  to  practice  a  new  habit, 
and  make  opportunities  when  these  do  not  spontaneously 
offer   themselves.    This   complements  on  the  positive 
side  what  has  just  been  said  on  the  negative.     Repeti- 
tion  alone   makes   habit,    skill,   mechanical  memory. 
Practice,  repetition,  drill,  not  strenuous  resolution  and 
emotional  enthusiasm,  give  us  the  art,  the  skill,  that 
we  want.    Hence,  if  you  want  to  learn  to  do  a  thing, 
begin  to  do  it.     Repeat.     If  you  are  short  of  oppor- 
tunities, make  them.     Set  apart  a  few  moments  every 
day  for  your  exercise.     If  you  want  to  qualify  for  the 
village  band,  practice  awhile  on  your  cornet  every  day. 
Your  neighbor  may  feel  like  mobbing  me  for  giving  you 
this  advice,  but  it  is  nevertheless  the  only  way  to  suc- 
cess. 

(d)  Be  exact  in  your  practice.    In  engraving  a  char- 
acter, if  the  engraver  is  careless  and  lets  his  instrument 
scratch  anywhere  and  anyhow,  his  work  will  be  a  fail- 
ure.   So  in  carving  out  our  habit   channels,  if  we 
"  carve  "  ever  so  diligently,  and  carve  in  the  wrong 
place,  we  are  doomed  to  disappointment.     Slovenly, 
careless,  inexact  repetition  is  not  only  worthless,  it  is 
positively  injurious.    When  bent  on  acquiring  some 
skill  or  art,  do  your  practicing  right,  or  don't  do  it  at 
all.     And  it  may  be  noted  that  it  does  not  matter  in 
acquiring  a  habit  whether  we  do  a  thing  willingly  or 


160         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

under  compulsion,  nor  whether  we  attend  to  what  we 
are  doing  or  not.  All  that  counts  is  the  act,  and  nothing 
counts  but  the  act.  Some  psychologists  tell  us  that 
attention  is  essential,  and  that  we  will  learn  the  habit 
with  a  speed  in  proportion  to  the  amount  of  attention 
we  pay  to  our  practice.  This  is  a  mistake.  There  is 
no  virtue  in  attention  in  habit  getting.  Only  this :  To 
acquire  any  skill  it  is  of  vital  importance  that  we  per- 
form the  act  exactly  right  in  practice.  Now,  this  often 
necessitates  attention.  The  piano  student  who  plays 
his  exercise  wrong  is  told  by  his  teacher :  "  You  must 
have  failed  to  pay  attention  when  practicing."  And 
this  is  probably  true.  But  what  hurt  the  pupil  was  not 
directly  his  lack  of  attention,  but  the  result  of  this  lack 
of  attention,  viz.,  that  he  practiced  incorrectly.  Pay 
enough  attention  and  exercise  enough  care  to  make 
your  repetition  of  the  act  exact. 

HABIT  AND  AGE 

If  we  are  allowed  to  make  two  assumptions,  we  can 
make  psychology  and  physiology  agree  beautifully  in 
this  matter  of  habit.  Physiological  psychologists  have 
assumed,  though  they  have  never  proven  anatomically 
(a)  that  the  neural  substance  is  plastic;  and  (6)  that 
this  plasticity  decreases  as  the  age  of  the  individual 
increases.  Now,  it  is  a  fact  that  in  childhood  we  ac- 
quire habits  very  easily,  and  also  lose  them  readily; 
while  as  we  grow  older  we  find  it  gradually  harder  to  ac- 
quire new  habits,  but  also  that  it  is  easier  to  keep  them ; 
and  in  extreme  old  age  it  becomes  impossible  to  learn 
and  impossible  to  forget  what  was  learned  in  younger 
years. 


Habit  161 

The  Relation  of  Habit  to  Education.  —  This,  of 
course,  is  simply  the  scientific  basis  for  the  doctrine 
established  long  before  there  was  any  kind  of  book 
psychology :  that  youth  is  the  time  for  education. 

(a)  We  should  not  attempt  to  train  a  child  in  any 
habit  or  skill  before  (1)  his  muscular  and  nervous 
systems  are  developed  enough  to  perform  movements 
of  such  complexity  and  precision,  and  (2)  he  has  the 
ability  to  keep  with  reasonable  practice  the  habit 
he  acquires. 

I  knew  a  child  of -four  years  who  memorized  all  the 
names  of  the  states  of  the  Union  and  their  capitals. 
But  when  he  began  attending  school  he  had  forgotten 
them  all.  As  mechanical  memory  and  habit  are  identi- 
cal, this  is  an  example  in  point. 

(6)  The  mechanical  part  of  education  is  acquired 
with  least  effort  in  late  childhood  and  early  youth. 
Penmanship,  drawing,  singing,  elements  of  playing 
musical  instruments,  dancing,  swimming,  skating, 
bicycling,  deportment  in  society,  the  elementary  use 
of  common  tools,  and  all  of  that  element  in  book  studies 
which  requires  much  mechanical  memory,  are  acquired 
best  and  with  least  effort  before  the  age  of  sixteen. 

HABITS  AS   ELEMENTS   IN    CHARACTER 

The  foundation  of  a  good  character  lies  in  good  habits. 
In  the  first  place,  we  must  be  equipped  with  a  set  of 
technical  habits  which  take  the  drudgery  of  routine 
work  out  of  conscious,  voluntary  life  and  make  it 
mechanical.  Without  a  set  of  such  habits  our  whole 
life  would  be  spent  in  the  mere  routine  of  existence. 
Dressing  and  eating  would  occupy  our  whole  attention. 


162         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Secondly,  our  everyday  morality  should  be  habitual. 
There  should  be  no  necessity  of  appealing  to  the  will 
at  all.  A  properly  trained  adult  should  do  the  right 
thing  from  habit  because  it  never  occurs  to  him  to  do 
anything  else.  It  seems  only  natural  to  him  to  do  the 
right.  In  nine  hundred  ninety-nine  cases  out  of  a 
thousand  he  does  what  is  right  without  ever  thinking 
of  the  possibility  of  doing  anything  else. 

Personal  Habits.  —  Personal  habits  should  be  ac- 
quired before  adolescence,  if  conditions  are  ideal.  By 
this  we  mean  habits  of  behavior  in  company,  of  dress, 
manners  at  the  table,  carriage  of  the  body,  and  habits 
of  personal  cleanliness.  It  is  possible  to  get  the  habits, 
the  air,  the  behavior  that  should  go  with  a  cultured, 
refined,  high-bred  gentleman  or  lady  later  in  life ;  but 
if  this  training  was  not  acquired  in  early  youth,  there 
is  usually  something  exotic  and  artificial  about  the 
result. 

Moral  Habits.  —  Moral  habits  should,  of  course,  be 
inculcated  from  earliest  childhood,  but  the  vital  age 
for  the  formation  of  moral  habits  is  early  adolescence 
and  the  half  dozen  years  that  follow  it.  But  this 
is  precisely  the  age  when  it  is  most  natural  to  scorn 
conventionalities  and  to  have  a  burning  desire  for 
originality  and  individuality  at  any  price.  Now,  while 
independence  and  individuality  are  fine  things,  one  may 
easily  pay  too  high  a  price  for  them.  Here  the  author- 
ity and  diplomacy  of  parents  and  teachers  should  be 
directed  towards  the  securing  of  correct  moral  habits, 
especially  during  early  youth.  Contrary  to  common 
opinion,  there  is  no  necessity  of  allowing  the  young 
blades  to  sow  their  wild  oats.  True,  great  men  often 


Habit  163 

have  seeded  acres  of  this  pernicious  cereal,  but  they 
became  great  and  good  not  because  of  it  but  in  spite  of 
it.  Many  and  many  a  man,  great,  small,  and  middle- 
sized,  has  failed  to  grow  to  his  full  stature  because  of 
his  "  free  and  unconventional  "  life  in  youth.  Worst 
of  all,  some  varieties  of  wild  oats  do  not  mature  before 
late  in  Me.  An  acquaintance  of  mine,  a  man  of  great 
ability  and  strong  passions  and  appetites,  lived  a  "  gen- 
erous "  youth  of  this  variety.  He  was  not  averse  to 
a  "  spree  "  at  times,  but  very  rarely  could  the  effects 
be  detected  the  next  day ;  in  fact  he  was  never  intoxi- 
cated up  to,  or  rather  down  to,  the  policeman's  stand- 
ard. But  he  straightened  out  when  his  college  days 
were  over,  and  became  a  very  prominent  clergyman. 
To  all  appearance  he  had  mastered  his  bad  habits,  and 
now  lived  a  blameless  life.  In  reality  he  was  keeping 
up  his  bibulous  habits  in  secret.  But  the  day  of  reckon- 
ing came.  His  indulgence  was  slowly  undermining  not 
only  his  physical  system  but  also  his  power  of  self- 
control.  When  the  afternoon  of  life  set  in,  he  found 
himself  unable  to  cope  with  his  appetite  any  longer. 
He  succumbed.  To-day  he  fills  a  drunkard's  grave. 
Danger  of  Habits  becoming  Masters.  —  The  daily 
routine  of  life  and  of  business  should  be  carried  on  as 
automatically  as  possible.  For  every  ounce  of  energy 
we  save  from  the  business  of  running  the  mechanical 
part  of  existence,  we  have  an  ounce  more  of  energy 
for  higher  things.  But  there  is  always  the  danger  that 
habits,  from  dominating  the  nervous  mechanism,  will 
begin  to  dominate  the  personality.  Such  an  ossified 
character  is  very  comfortable,  but  wholly  contemptible. 
The  possessor  loses  the  ability  to  change  his  opinion, 


164         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

.to  make  a  new  initiative,  to  take  a  fresh  view,  to  do 
anything  unbiased  or  unprejudiced. 

Hence  the  cure :  Don't  allow  yourself  to  fall  into 
a  rut.  Take  a  vacation  from  your  regular  business  at 
times  and  engage  in  some  other  work  (not  play)  for  a 
month  or  a  year.  Have  some  recreation  or  amateur 
pursuit  as  different  as  possible  from  your  regular  busi- 
ness. Take  up  a  new  language  or  a  new  science  every 
few  years  throughout  life.  Review  your  college  course 
with  your  son  when  he  goes  to  college.  Thus  we  might 
go  on  indefinitely.  The  nub  of  it  is  to  get  out  of  the 
rut  —  not  permanently,  for  the  rut  serves  the  same 
purpose  as  the  rail  to  the  locomotive,  but  just  long 
enough  to  prove  our  humanity. 

Exercises  and  Illustrations 

1 .  Prove  that  mechanical  memory  and  habit  are,  in  reference 
to  teaching,  identical. 

2.  Which  is  the  better  way  of  memorizing  the  multiplica- 
tion table :    repeat  it  over  and  over  again  as  fast  as  one  can 
until  learned,  or  repeat  it  once  a  day  until  learned,  or  repeat 
it  half  a  dozen  times  a  day  until  learned? 

3.  Why  is  "  tapering  off  "  usually  a  deceptive  plan  in  getting 
rid  of  a  bad  habit? 

4.  How  would  you  correct  a  pupil's  bad  carriage? 

5.  How  would  you  habituate  yourself  to  rising  early  in  the 
morning? 

6.  Illustrate  the  psychology  of  habit  by  the  formation  of  new 
channels  for  water  in  a  delta  of  a  river  at  flood  times. 

7.  Illustrate  by  a  character  in  history:    (a)  the   power   of 
habits;  (6)  one  of  the  secondary  laws  of  habit. 

8.  Define  :  habit,  custom. 


CHAPTER  XVII 

IDEALS,    OR    RATIONAL   INTERESTS 
IMPULSE  AS  A  MOTIVE  FOR  ACTION 

Instinct.  —  In  the  preceding  chapters  we  have  studied 
our  lower  interests,  or  motives.  We  have  found  that 
our  lowest  fully  conscious  motive  for  action  (lowest  in 
the  sense  of  least  evolved)  is  instinct,  or  blind  impulse. 
This  is  a  mere  pressure  in  consciousness  toward  a  cer- 
tain activity.  The  person  subject  to  the  instinct  has 
no  purpose  for  his  action.  The  stimulus  that  brings 
the  instinct  into  action  is  generally  a  physical  stimulus 
of  nerve  endings.  Thus  the  stimulus  of  an  empty 
stomach  brings  on  the  instinctive  craving  for  food 
which  we  call  hunger.  But  sometimes  an  "  idea  "  may 
be  the  stimulus  for  an  instinct.  Thus  at  hearing  a 
threat,  one  will  quite  instinctively  put  one's  self  in  an 
attitude  of  defense.  Here  the  stimulus  is  not  the  sound, 
but  the  idea  conveyed  by  the  threatening  words. 

Desire.  —  Next  comes  desire.  A  desire  is  an  instinct 
plus  a  purpose.  The  object  of  the  desire  is  always  in 
the  future.  The  motive  force  in  a  desire  is  the  present 
longing  for  something  thought  attainable  in  the  future. 
Thus  the  boy  who  gets  up  at  three  o'clock  in  the  morn- 
ing to  go  fishing  has  no  interest  in  the  walk  to  the  boat, 
certainly  finds  no  interest,  no  motive,  no  delight  in 
breaking  off  his  sweet  slumber  at  so  unseasonable  an 

165 


166         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

hour,  but  the  delectable  joy  of  fishing  which  lies  beyond 
the  vigil  and  the  walk  has  attraction  —  motive  power 
-  enough  to  drive  him  out  of  bed  and  into  the  boat. 
Hence  a  desire  is  a  pressure  in  consciousness  towards 
the  obtaining  of  the  result  of  some  action. 

Impulse  dependent  on  a  Stimulus.  —  In  one  respect, 
then,  all  actions  determined  by  impulse  are  alike. 
The  awakening  of  the  impulse  depends  on  the  presence 
of  the  appropriate  stimulus.  Hence  all  such  actions, 
whether  from  desire  or  instinct,  are  determined  from 
without.  You  see  an  orange.  This  sets  the  imagina- 
tion to  work,  and  you  enjoy  the  imaginary  pleasure  of 
eating  an  orange.  This  forms  the  stimulus  that  ex- 
cites the  desire  to  get  the  real  orange.  If  you  act  on 
this  desire,  your  act  is  wholly  determined  by  the  pres- 
ence of  that  orange.  A  child  happens  to  think  of  the 
pleasure  of  coasting.  If  the  image  thus  awakened  is  a 
stronger  stimulus  to  the  awakening  of  impulse  than  that 
in  which  he  is  engaged  —  say  sawing  wood,  —  he  will 
leave  the  woodpile  and  start  for  his  sled  and  hill.  As 
long  as  a  person's  activity  is  wholly  determined  by 
impulse,  he  is  at  the  mercy  of  his  environment.  In 
whatever  direction  the  stimulus  of  his  environment  is 
strongest  he  must  needs  follow.  Given  the  mechanism 
and  the  nature  of  the  environment,  the  resulting  ac- 
tivity is  perfectly  predicable. 

The  images  of  future  pleasures  and  pains  form,  thus, 
a  very  important  class  of  stimuli  for  action.  In  fact 
they  are  always  the  stimuli  in  the  case  of  desires.  As 
images  of  pleasures  and  pains  become  weaker  the  farther 
off  the  reality  is  for  which  they  stand,  the  rule  is  that 
persons  determined  wholly  by  impulse  always  choose 


Ideals,  or  Rational  Interests  167 

the  smaller  proximate  good  in  preference  to  the  greater 
good  farther  in  the  future.  The  boy  saving  up  dimes 
for  a  bicycle  is  very  likely  to  spend  it  on  candy  and 
circus  tickets  because  the  hope  of  a  brief  taste  of  ele- 
phants and  gumdrops  ten  minutes  away  produces  a 
much  more  vivid  stimulus  to  activity  than  the  distant 
hopes  of  years  of  "  century  runs." 

The  Intermittent  Nature  of  Impulse.  —  In  both 
instinct  and  desire  the  motive,  or  interest,  is  indis- 
solubly  connected  with  the  accompanying  feeling,  and 
varies  in  strength  directly  with  the  feeling.  In  fact 
it  were  hardly  inaccurate  to  say  that  the  motive  force 
of  both  instinct  and  desire  is  the  feeling.  Thus,  the 
longing  for  food  is  precisely  proportional  to  the  sharp- 
ness of  the  feeling  of  hunger.  The  more  bitterly  one 
feels  the  insult,  the  more  powerfully  is  one  tempted  to 
"  get  even  "  by  retaliation.  As  soon  as  the  poignant 
feeling  of  anger  cools  down,  the  desire  to  inflict  pain  on 
one's  adversary  vanishes. 

Feelings  vary  continually.  They  seldom  last  long, 
and  while  they  last,  they  have  an  ever  varying  intensity. 
Since  the  motive  power  of  a  desire  or  an  impulse  varies 
directly  as  the  feeling,  the  result  is  that  action  from  in- 
stinct or  desire  is  always  intermittent. 

If  the  present  longing  were  the  highest  motive  we 
possessed,  human  achievements  would  never  amount  to 
very  much.  A  young  man  starts  out  to  get  an  educa- 
tion. An  education  seems  to  him  desirable.  As  he 
takes  the  train  for  college  he  is  fairly  burning  with 
longing  for  learning.  But  how  long  will  this  longing 
last?  To  be  precise,  we  must  admit  that  it  cannot 
possibly  last  longer  than  until  he  falls  asleep.  But  it 


168         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

will  reappear  as  soon  as  he  awakes  and  hold  an  inter- 
mittent sway  with  hunger,  thirst,  worries  in  passing 
examinations,  and  a  thousand  other  feelings  for,  per- 
haps, the  first  week.  Then  the  desire  for  learning  will 
fail  to  appear.  Homesickness,  a  proclivity  for  sports, 
pure  laziness,  or  some  other  desire  will  occupy  the 
boards  to  the  utter  exclusion  of  erudite  longings. 
Frankly,  he  finds  learning  a  bore,  and  though  he  knows 
that  an  education  will  be  of  inestimable  value  to  him, 
he  can't  yearn  for  it.  If  desire  is  the  highest  motive 
of  which  he  is  capable,  that  is  where  he  "  fails,"  unless 
parental  compulsion  carries  him  along. 

The  savage  is  actuated  mainly  by  desires  and  in- 
stincts. Hence,  when  hungry,  he  will  hunt  assiduously, 
and  even  when  not  hungry,  if  a  specially  tempting 
opportunity  comes  to  him,  he  will  work  hard  for  food, 
because  there  is  at  such  times  in  him  a  strong  longing 
for  the  future  feast.  But  when  his  hunger  is  satisfied 
and  there  are  no  unusual  inducements,  the  longings  for 
rest,  for  society,  or  for  war  are  usually  stronger  than 
the  longing  for  provisions  even  though  he  knows  in  a 
cold,  intellectual  way  that  before  another  course  of  the 
sun  he  will  again  be  hungry. 

A  HIGHER  MOTIVE  FOR  ACTION,  RATIONAL  INTEREST 

If  desires  were  our  highest  motives,  we  should  all  be 
in  the  condition  of  the  savage  or  the  irresponsible 
schoolboy.  But  there  is  a  higher  motive.  There  is  an 
interest  in  us  that  is  not  bound  to  our  longings,  our  yearn- 
ings, our  emotions.  We  have  the  power  of  choosing  ends 
for  our  activity,  and  these  ends  have  a  motive  force 
quite  independent  of  our  desires,  that  is,  of  our  longings. 


Ideals,  or  Rational  Interests  169 

Thus  the  studefit,  if  he  is  of  the  right  sort,  will  continue 
his  studies  just  as  faithfully  after  the  bloom  of  his  ro- 
mantic longing  for  an  education  has  worn  off.  The 
farmer  will  get  up  early  and  lie  down  late,  and  fill  in 
the  time  between  with  hard  work  for  many  a  weary  day 
because  he  has  made  it  his  abiding  purpose  to  raise  a 
crop  that  summer.  His  longings  and  yearnings  shift 
a  thousand  times  during  the  summer,  and  for  long 
stretches  of  time  he  never  thinks  of  the  joy  the  crop  will 
give  him,  but  still  he  keeps  on  steadily,  persistently 
working  for  the  end  he  has  set  himself. 

A  man  gets  his  fishhook  in  his  finger  above  the  barb. 
He  takes  his  knife  and  deliberately  cuts  out  the  hook. 
The  marvelously  simple  hedonistic  psychology  explains 
this  action  thus :  More  pain  would  have  resulted  from 
having  the  hook  in  the  finger  permanently  than  was 
caused  by  cutting  it  out;  his  desire  for  the  greater 
quantity  of  pleasure  was  greater  than  his  desire  for  the 
less  quantity;  hence  the  hook  was  cut  out.  This  is 
juggling  with  the  meaning  of  the  word  desire.  When 
the  knife  approached  the  quivering  flesh,  there  was 
only  one  desire,  longing,  conscious  pressure,  in  that 
man's  mind  of  any  appreciable  magnitude  and  that 
was  don't.  He  knew,  of  course,  perfectly  well,  that  it 
was  best  for  him  to  get  that  hook  out,  however  it 
smarted,  but  this  was  a  cold,  unemotional  intellectuality, 
and  there  was  not  room  in  his  conscious  field  for  any 
other  emotional  motive  than  the  vivid  shrinking  of 
quick  flesh  from  the  knife. 

There  was  only  one  desire  there,  and  that  was  all 
against  the  surgical  operation.  And  still  the  man,  if 
strong-minded,  acted  contrary  to  this  desire,  for  he  had 


170         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

a  motive  that  did  not  depend  on  feeling,  he  had  a  ra- 
tional interest  which  was  stronger  than  the  emotional 
interest. 

This  motive  which  is  independent  of  feeling  we  have 
called  the  ideal  or  rational  interest. 

Rational  Interests  the  Result  of  Deliberate  Choice.  — 
Man,  then,  has  the  power  to  choose  ends  for  his  activity, 
and  to  endow  these  purposes  of  his  with  a  motive  force 
that  is  wholly  independent  of  impulse.  These  chosen 
purposes,  or,  as  we  shall  call  them  here,  ideals  or  ra- 
tional interests,  differ  fundamentally  from  desires 
and  instincts.  A  desire  chooses  us ;  not  we  the  desire. 
I  like  oranges,  not  because  I  once  chose  to  like  oranges, 
but  just  because  it  is  a  part  of  my  nature  to  like  or- 
anges. We  get  angry,  we  desire  to  imitate,  we  love, 
we  hate,  not  because  we  have  "  made  up  our  minds  " 
so  to  do,  but  because  when  the  proper  stimulus  comes 
upon  us,  the  desire  follows,  wholly  irrespective  of  our 
will.  It  is  not  so  with  our  ideals.  We  do  not  have 
them  until  we  have  chosen  them.  All  purposes  are 
not  chosen  purposes.  Some  we  get  gratis  with  our 
desires.  But  until  a  purpose  is  chosen  as  a  rational 
interest,  it  has  no  motive  force  beyond  what  the  emo- 
tion gives  to  it.  It  is  in  the  choosing  that  the  purpose 
gets  that  independent-of-the-feeling  energy  that  ele- 
vates it  into  an  ideal. 

By  their  very  nature,  all  desires  are  bound  to  fluc- 
tuate. If  by  affection  we  mean  an  emotion,  there  is 
no  such  thing  as  "  constant  affection."  The  most 
amorous  swain  will  lose  momentarily  every  vestige 
of  love  for  his  lady  by  such  a  trifling  thing  as  a  carpet 
tack  driven  three  quarters  of  an  inch  into  his  foot. 


Ideals,  or  Rational  Interests  171 

As  far  as  his  feelings  are  concerned,  that  carpet  tack 
will  for  a  few  seconds  fill  his  whole  being.  But  ideals 
need  not  fluctuate.  We  may  follow  the  same  ideals 
for  weeks,  months,  years,  yes,  for  life. 

Exercises 

In  the  following  determine  whether  the  act  is  done  from  im- 
pulse or  rational  interest : 

1.  Sneezing. 

2.  Eating  dinner. 

3.  Studying  this  lesson. 

4.  Going  to  a  reception. 

5.  Attending  some  function  "  from  a  sense  of  duty." 

6.  A  man's  drinking  until  he  becomes  intoxicated. 

7.  The  boy's  good  behavior,  because  he  fears  he  will  other- 
wise be  punished. 

8.  Washington  as  commander  in  the  Revolutionary  War. 

9.  Benedict  Arnold,  when  he  betrayed  West  Point  into  the 
hands  of  the  enemy. 

10.  An  army  charging  a  fortified  position. 

11.  An  army  retreating  step  by  step  in  good  order. 

12.  Training  for  a  game. 


CHAPTER  XVIII 

OUR  SELVES 
OUR  RATIONAL  INTERESTS,  IDEAL  SELVES 

WE  have  seen  that  human  activity  of  the  highest 
type  is  not  determined  by  impulse.  Man  chooses  an 
ideal,  and  having  determined  that  it  is  the  best  for 
him,  he  follows  it  both  when  it  agrees  with  his  feel- 
ings and  when  it  does  not.  Very  often  lines  of  ac- 
tivity, not  conducive  to  his  chosen  purpose,  feel  more 
attractive  than  his  ideal,  but  he  has  the  mysterious 
power  of  determining  his  activity  without  reference 
to  present  feelings. 

Another  way  of  expressing  the  same  truth  is  this: 
When  man  becomes  explicitly  rational,  he  gains  the 
power  of  objectifying  himself,  i.e.  of  forming  a  dis- 
tinct notion  of  himself.  Now,  if  he  is  worthy  of  his 
high  dignity  of  rationality,  he  will  cease  to  be  controlled 
by  whatever  stimulus  happens  to  be  the  strongest, 
he  will  cease  to  be  controlled  by  his  momentary  im- 
pulses, he  will  take  an  inventory  of  his  present  powers 

\and  opportunities  (his  present  self  and  environment) 
and  construct  an  imaginary  future  self  that  he  deems 

j  worthy  of  his  best  efforts.  He  will  cletermine  to  real- 
ize this  future  self,  and  from  that  moment,  this  future 
self  becomes  the  supreme  motive  from  which  all  his 
rational  activity  springs.  Such  a  future  self,  chosen 

172 


Our  Selves  173 

as  the  aim  and  motive  power  of  activity,  may  be  called 
an  ideal.  In  every  instance  we  shall  find  that  our 
rational  interests  always  center  in  the  self.  Our  ideals 
are  all  future  selves  to  be  realized.  John  decides  to 
get  an  education.  He  has  chosen,  as  the  rational  thing 
for  him  to  seek,  an  educated  John.  This  is  his  ideal. 
James  decides  to  propose  to  Alice.  Strictly  speaking, 
James's  ideal,  in  the  sense  of  rational  purpose,  is  not 
Alice.  The  ideal  which  he  tries  to  realize  is  James- 
married-to-Alice. 

But  although  one's  rational  interests  all  center  in 
one's  self,  this  does  not  mean  selfishness,  as  we  shall 
presently  see. 

OUR  SYSTEM  OF  SELVES 

The  center  of  our  interest  is  our  individual  self. 
This,  with  his  mother,  is  all  in  which  the  little  child 
is  interested.  As  the  child  develops,  other  persons 
come  within  his  sphere  of  interest :  family,  friends, 
neighbors,  community,  nation,  humanity,  and  finally 
all  sentient  beings. 

Thus  the  "  self  "  normally  expands  until  it  includes 
the  universe.  The  schoolboy's  interests  are  limited 
to  the  future  happiness  of  himself,  his  family,  and  his 
friends.  He  will  rise  at  five  in  the  morning  to  give 
himself  a  long  holiday  to  spend  in  fishing.  He  will 
deny  himself  heroically  to  buy  his  mother  a  Christmas 
present,  for  he  is  interested  in  his  mother;  he  loves 
her.  He  will  risk  his  life  to  save  a  comrade  from  drown- 
ing, for  his  comrade  is  a  part  of  his  larger  self.  And 
this  is  not  selfishness  of  a  sublimer  sort,  as  the  hedo- 
nistic philosopher  would  have  us  believe.  He  is  not 


174         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

figuring :  "  Now  if  I  let  Jim  drown,  I  will  lose  a  most 
enjoyable  companion."  Nor  does  he  even  reason : 
"I'll  never  forgive  myself  if  I  let  Jim  drown;  I  shall 
suffer  from  remorse  as  long  as  I  live."  He  is  directly 
interested  in  Jim.  He  is  just  as  directly  interested  in 
Jim  as  in  himself.  Jim  is  a  part  of  his  larger  self. 
But  he  is  not  interested  in  the  future  of  his  town.  He 
is  not  public-spirited.  He  is  not  yet  conscious  of  the 
fact  that  his  community  is  a  part  of  himself. 

Here  is  where  some  people  stop  developing.  A  per- 
son of  narrow  sympathies,  who  is  selfish  and  lacking 
in  public  spirit,  is  simply  a  case  of  arrested  develop- 
ment. Our  sphere  of  interest  should  expand  with  our 
sphere  of  knowledge. 

Thus,  the  youth  ought  to  add  the  community  to  his 
self.  He  ought  to  become  public-spirited.  A  normally 
developed  adult  will  sacrifice  much  and  work  hard  for 
his  school,  his  town,  his  fraternity,  his  "  set."  He  is  a 
"  good  fellow,"  he  is  not  stingy  or  close.  He  is 
"  right  there "  when  he  is  needed.  He  is  public- 
spirited. 

The  normal  adult  is  also  patriotic.  That  means  he 
has  taken  his  country  to  his  heart,  and  made  that  a 
part  of  his  self.  He  loves  his  country  and  its  insti- 
tutions. Unless  he  is  a  pot-hunting  politician,  his 
interest  in  politics  is  mainly  to  make  his  country  a 
better  country,  its  laws  more  just  and  its  institutions 
more  effective.  If  his  country  is  threatened,  he  will 
rush  to  the  front  and  risk  his  own  life  in  defense  of  his 
flag.  He  may  even  rise  to  that  dizzy  height  of  patriotic 
perfection  of  paying  his  taxes  without  a  murmur. 
What  is  more,  he  loves  all  humankind.  He  loves  his 


Our  Selves  175 

neighbor  as  himself.  He  would  not  rob  or  cheat  a 
foreigner,  or  leave  him  unaided  in  distress  any  more 
than  he  would  a  fellow-countryman.  He  does  not 
desire  a  war  in  Argentina  that  the  price  of  his  wheat 
may  rise.  He  would  not  desire  his  own  country  to 
gain  an  unjust  advantage  over  another  nation. 

Many  fail  in  thus  universalizing  their  sphere  of  in- 
terests. Many  good  men  who  would  not  take  advan- 
tage of  a  neighbor's  misfortune  rejoice  in  the  calamities 
that  befall  another  nation,  if  thus  their  own  business 
prospers.  Many  a  fine  fellow  cannot  appreciate  the 
utter  immorality  of  the  toast.  "  My  country,  may  she 
ever  be  right ;  but  right  or  wrong,  my  country !  " 

But  our  self  should  have  even  a  wider  sweep.  It 
should  include  all  sentient  beings.  The  dumb  animals 
have  a  claim  upon  our  sympathy.  But  here  mankind 
is  far  from  its  ideal.  Commercial  travelers  are  justly 
famous  for  their  kind-heartedness,  but  how  many  ask 
the  driver  to  spare  the  overdriven  livery  team  ?  Many 
a  young  lady  is  too  fastidious  to  bait  her  own  fishhook, 
but  she  is  hard-hearted  enough  to  have  her  companion 
impale  a  live  minnow  on  her  hook.  The  average  fish- 
erman never  thinks  of  saving  the  fish  from  unnecessary 
torture. 

Place  a  sheet  of  paper  over  a  magnet.  Sprinkle  some 
iron  filings  over  the  paper,  and  jar  it  slightly.  The 
filings  will  arrange  themselves  in  a  starlike  form  around 
the  magnetic  center  of  force.  Likewise  we  all  rational- 
ize life  more  or  less  perfectly.  All  the  activities  of  our 
lives  that  we  succeed  in  rationalizing  radiate  from  our 
self,  or  rather  our  system  of  selves.  In  fact,  every- 
thing in  the  universe  falls  in  line  and  is  evaluated  by 


176         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

our  system  of  selves,  our  organized  sphere  of  rational 
interests.  Thus  following,  and  modifying,  James,  we 
may  say  we  have  an  individual  self,  a  family  self,  a 
community  self,  a  national  self,  a  humanity  self,  and  a 
religious  self  which  includes  an  interest  in  all  beings 
with  God  as  the  Supreme  Being. 

Just  here  it  is  interesting  to  notice  Professor  James's 
theory  of  the  "  social  "  self  that  "  a  man  has  as  many 
social  selves  as  there  are  individuals  who  recognize  him 
and  carry  an  image  of  him  in  their  minds."  An  enor- 
mous amount  of  our  striving  and  worrying  in  this 
world  is  centered  on  our  social  selves.  Many  a  man 
has  ruined  himself  by  extravagant  display  just  because 
he  could  not  bear  to  think  that  his  social  circle  should 
image  him  as  a  man  in  straitened  circumstances. 
Whenever  we  are  ashamed  or  proud  or  vain  or  restive 
under  criticism  or  happy  with  applause,  it  is  some  of 
our  social  selves  that  concern  us.  Carrying  this  idea  a 
little  further,  we  do  not  merely  have  individual  social 
selves.  All  our  larger  selves  have  their  social  counter- 
parts. Countless  opera  heroes  have  proved  the  uni- 
versality of  the  sentiment,  "  I'll  knock  any  one  down 
who  tries  to  besmirch  my  mother's  honor."  Such  a 
sentiment  always  brings  applause  from  the  galleries. 
A  derogatory  remark  on  one's  nationality  awakens  a 
quick  response  in  defense  of  one's  national  social  self. 

THE  HISTORICAL  EVOLUTION  OF  IDEALS 

In  primitive  society  it  was  of  utmost  importance 
that  the  lower  emotions  and  impulses  be  highly  devel- 
oped. The  strong,  brutally  aggressive  fighter,  who  saw 
to  it  that  his  lair  was  supplied,  was  the  successful  in- 


Our  Selves  177 

dividual  then.  Now  such  a  person  is  an  "  undesirable 
citizen." 

In  the  very  kindergarten  class  of  society  man  must 
cease  to  be  a  fighter  and  become  fraternal.  The  de- 
lightful directness  of  life  is  lost,  that  frank  immediate- 
ness  of  action  and  stimulus  that  give  such  a  charm  to 
the  life  at  the  frontier  and  in  the  wilderness.  Man  must 
cease  to  rely  on  his  fist  and  his  sword  and  must  instead 
go  to  court  with  his  troubles. 

Militarism.  —  But  even  until  this  day  the  nations 
of  the  world  as  nations  are  in  the  fist-right  state. 
Nations  in  war  continue  the  appeal  to  brute  force.  So 
while  fighting  between  individuals  has  been  tabooed  as 
very  wicked,  fighting  as  a  soldier  has  been  extolled  to 
the  skies  as  the  greatest  of  the  virtues. 

Militarism  is  rampant  even  in  civilized  lands  for  sev- 
eral reasons.  First,  because  pugnacity,  fighting  courage, 
is  the  oldest  and  most  deep-seated  of  our  virtues, 
and  hence,  nothing  makes  a  more  universal  appeal 
in  all  ages  of  life  and  to  all  classes  of  society.  Second, 
governments  and  potentates  depend  finally  for  their 
existence  on  the  fighting  ability  of  their  peoples.  Fi- 
nally, demagogues  find  that  humanity  can  be  best 
"  worked  "  from  this  side. 

Commercialism.  —  Just  as  primitive  society  favored 
the  fighting  instinct,  so  modern  society  favors  the  prop- 
erty impulses.  "  To  him  that  hath  shall  be  given," 
is  our  motto.  Society  now  looks  for  industrial  effi- 
ciency. Thus  the  big  prizes  in  the  world  are  mainly  for 
the  victors  in  the  industrial  competition.  Rothschild, 
Vanderbilt,  Rockefeller,  Morgan,  Krupp,  Carnegie  hold 
the  center  of  the  stage  in  the  modern  world.  Hence 


178         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

the  property  instincts  and  ideals  are  inordinately  fa- 
vored by  present  society.  Because  the  getting  of 
daily  bread  is  such  a  difficult  business  for  a  large  por- 
tion of  humanity,  and  occupies  by  far  most  of  its 
active  time  and  thought,  the  tendency  is  strong  to 
make  industrial  efficiency  the  main  requirement  of  our 
ideal,  and  the  central  element  in  character. 

The  True  Ideal.  —  But  our  better  nature  protests 

against  this  sordid  view.    Just  merely  keeping  alive 

cannot  possibly  be  the  main  and  ultimate  purpose  of 

life.    That  would  be  reasoning  in  a  very  vicious  and 

|  very  narrow  circle.     Humanity  is  all  the  time  evolving 

|  a  broader  and  more  unselfish  sphere  of  interests.    One 

j  who  is  adjusted  to  our  advanced  society,  whose  sphere 

of  interests  and  sympathies  include  the  whole  world, 

who  keeps  the  proper  balance  between  his  social  and 

selfish  interests,  and  who  puts  the  emphasis  on  the 

higher  things  of  the  spirit,  he  has  the  true  ideal. 

THE  DEVELOPMENT  OF  THE  WEAL  PERSONALITY 

The  Choice  and  Renunciation  of  Selves.  —  In  the 
language  we  have  adopted  here,  we  have  unnumbered 
potential  selves.  Of  these  we  must  choose  a  compara- 
tively small  number  for  realization.  Thus,  I  have  a 
holiday,  and  there  are  twenty  tempting  ways  in  which 
I  may  spend  it.  But  I  can  spend  it  in  only  one  way. 
If  I  go  fishing,  I  cannot  spend  the  day  in  the  city  or 
in  visiting  my  uncle.  Hence,  my  choosing  fishing 
means  denying  myself  nineteen  pleasant  holidays.  A 
young  man  chooses  his  life  work.  He  decides  to  be- 
come a  lawyer.  But  in  so  doing  he  turns  his  back 
upon  hundreds  of  occupations.  He  might  have  become 


Our  Selves  179 

a  physician,  clergyman,  artist,  blacksmith,  journalist, 
or  sailor;  but  all  these  possibilities  become  impossi- 
bilities the  moment  he  is  committed  to  the  lawyer's 
course.  Thus  a  choice  of  an  ideal,  of  a  rational  interest, 
involves  limitation  and  negation.  Only  he  who  has 
courage  to  be  ignorant  of  many  things  will  ever  be  wise 
in  one.  The  "  jack  of  all  trades  "  is  ever  the  master 
of  none.  When  accidents  happen,  the  difficulty  is 
that  every  one  tries  to  do  a  dozen  different  things  at 
once,  and  so  nothing  is  done.  It  is  the  same  in  every 
situation  in  life.  We  must  deny  ourselves  and  re- 
nounce an  infinite  number  of  potential  lines  of  action 
to  become  effective  in  one. 

The  Ideal  Human  Personality.  —  Our  true  purpose 
in  life  is  the  building  of  a  noble  human  personality. 
The  ideal  personality  is  one  whose  rational  interests 
have  been  organized  into  an  ethically  just  and  prac- 
tically useful  system. 

In  the  nervous  system  the  higher  centers  exercise 
an  inhibitive  power  over  the  lower  centers,  and  this 
indicates  the  proper  scale  and  gradation  of  our  im- 
pulses. Our  lower  animal  self  should  be  in  subjection 
to  our  social  and  spiritual  self.  To  attain  this  end, 
however,  it  is  necessary  to  favor  in  every  way  possible 
these  higher  aspirations  and  interests  of  ours.  For 
our  lower  nature  is  centuries  older  than  our  nobler 
impulses,  and  the  tendency  to  a  reversion  to  an  earlier, 
cruder,  and  baser  type  is  strong.  It  is  the  path  of 
least  resistance.  In  the  training  of  the  emotions  and 
impulses,  then,  the  proper  gradation  of  values  should 
be  observed,  and  a  balance  be  secured  between  the 
higher  and  the  lower.  The  ideal  character  is  not  one 


180         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

in  which  the  higher  impulses  and  feelings  alone  are 
developed,  but  one  in  which  the  whole  individual  is 
harmoniously  developed  with  reference  to  our  present 
civilization  —  one  with  well-developed  lower  impulses 
and  feelings,  but  with  these  strictly  subordinated  and 
subjected  to  the  higher.  Philosophically  we  may  say 
that  our  ideal  should  be  to  realize  in  thought,  in  feel- 
ing, and  in  action  our  unity  with  all  mankind,  with  the 
universe,  with  the  Divine  Mind,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
realize  our  individuality.  We  should  live  in  harmony 
with  all  creation ;  but  harmony  does  not  mean  a  Bud- 
dhistic coalescence  with  the  divisionless  sea  of  being. 
Rather  it  means  preserving  and  fostering  our  own  in- 
dividuality, but  only  in  harmony  with  the  divine  moral 
order  of  the  universe. 

This  ideal  may  be  regarded  as  eternal  and  unchange- 
able. But  mankind  is  developing.  And  as  the  indi- 
vidual and  society  change,  the  combinations  and  pro- 
portions in  the  elements  of  an  ideal  character  change 
also. 

When  a  member  of  a  savage  tribe  is  brave  and  loyal 
to  his  tribe,  and  conforms  to  their  notions  of  morality 
and  religion,  he  has  reached  the  highest  form  of  char- 
acter possible  in  that  stage.  He  may  be  a  dirty  savage, 
leading  a  life  absolutely  at  variance  with  civilized 
standards  of  right  living,  but  he  is  living  true  to  the 
highest  ideal  possible  to  him. 

Thus  the  actual  ideal  which  good  men  set  before 
themselves  is  evolving  through  the  ages  and  constantly 
approximating,  in  healthy  ages,  the  absolute  ideal  in 
the  Divine  Mind.  But  it  does  not  approach  the  divine 
ideal  in  a  straight  line.  Rather  may  we  say  that  the 


Our  Selves  181 

course  is  that  of  an  irregular  spiral,  always  aiming  at  a 
point  a  good  deal  to  one  side  of  perfection,  but  on  the 
whole  higher  than  before.  And  the  aberrations  from 
the  true  course  seem  roughly  to  balance  one  another, 
so  that  what  was  lost  by  a  tendency  too  much  to  the  left 
in  one  age  is  balanced  by  an  error  to  the  right  in  another. 

Exercises 

1.  Name  the  ten  greatest  Americans.     How  many  of  them 
gained  their  fame  in  war? 

2.  Name  ten  characters  from  history  (not  American).    How 
many  of  them  are  military  men? 

3.  If  Richard  the  Lion-hearted  had  lived  in  our  day,  what  of 
his  fame  and  career? 

4.  How  many  of  the  present  multimillionaires  would  have 
been  heard  from,  if  they  had  lived  a  thousand  years  ago  ? 

5.  If  commercialism  is  favored  by  our  age,  why  not  adopt 
commercialism  as  our  ideal  ? 

6.  Why  keep  any  subject  in  the  curriculum  of  the  schools 
which  does  not  pay  in  dollars  and  cents  ? 

7.  Draw  a  diagram  illustrating  our  system  of  selves. 

8.  Even  as  late  as  the  sixteenth  century,  on  many  coasts  of 
Europe,  the  inhabitants  lured  foreign  ships  on  the  rocks  by  false 
lights,  in  order  to  get  goods  from  the  wreck.     These  same  people 
who  did  such  dastardly  deeds  were  fond  fathers  and  fierce  pa- 
triots.    What  was  the  matter  with  them  psychologically? 

9.  John  cries  if  his  brother  is  punished  in  school,  but  laughs 
and  jeers  if  any  other  boy  "  catches  it."     Explain  his  selves. 

10.  Show  how  we  may  make  our  choice  too  narrow  as  well  as 
too  wide,  in  the  matter  of  selves. 

11.  Give  examples  from  history  of  persons  who  have  chosen 
and  realized  remarkable  selves,  and  state  in  the  language  of  this 
book  what  these  selves  were. 

12.  What  is  the  difference  between  an  impulse  (an  emotional 
interest)  and  a  rational  interest  (an  ideal)? 

13.  When  you  studied  this  lesson,  were  you  actuated  by  emo- 
tional or  rational  interests? 


CHAPTER  XIX 
THE   WILL 

TWO  CLASSES  OF  VOLUNTARY  ACTION 

Two  very  different  classes  of  action  are  spoken  of  as 
voluntary,  (a)  Ordinarily  we  have  the  power  and  time 
to  inhibit  our  impulses.  Hence  when  we  allow  an  im- 
pulse to  pass  into  an  action,  such  an  action  is  said  to  be 
voluntary.  The  following  examples  will  give  an  idea 
of  this  class  of  voluntary  actions.  A  finger  itches ;  I 
scratch  it.  At  the  table  I  am  offered  some  food ;  I  eat 
it.  People  weep  when  sad  and  laugh  when  amused. 

The  function  of  the  will  is  wholly  negative  in  these 
cases.  We  simply  will  nothing  when  we  do  such  ac- 
tions. But  when  we  refrain  from  doing  them,  we  do 
exercise  the  will  in  inhibiting  the  impulse. 

(6)  Actions  done  from  rational  interest,  that  is, 
actions  controlled  by  an  ideal,  are  voluntary  actions 
in  a  higher  sense.  They  are  positively  willed.  Any- 
thing a  person  has  "  made  up  his  mind  "to  do  is  truly 
a  voluntary  action.  For  here  will  power  is  pretty  sure 
to  be  needed. 

Our  ordinary  use  of  the  words  wish  and  desire  both 
as  verbs  and  nouns  cover  both  the  meanings  of  desire 
proper  and  of  ideals.  This  creates  no  end  of  confusion 
in  psychological  and  philosophical  reasoning.  Thus, 
"  I  wish  to  study  Greek  "  may  mean  that  at  the  mo- 
ment of  speaking  I  have  a  longing  for  this  linguistic 

182 


The  Will  183 

study;  or  it  may  mean  simply  that  I  have  concluded 
that  it  is  best  for  me  to  study  Greek,  though  at  this 
particular  moment  I  may  not  have  any  feeling  one  way 
or  the  other.  "  His  greatest  desire  was  constantly 
during  his  whole  life  for  military  honor,"  cannot  mean 
that  he  was  constantly  conscious  of  a  tension  accom- 
panied by  feeling  towards  deeds  of  "  glory,"  and  that 
this  longing  and  feeling  was  always  during  his  whole 
life  strongest.  He  must  have  been  hungry  sometimes. 
He -must  have  thought  of  something  else  sometimes. 
No  person  rightly  out  of  an  insane  asylum  is  such  a 
monomaniac  as  to  have  one  emotion  constantly  during 
a  whole  lifetime.  So  what  the  sentence  must  mean  is : 
His  ideal  was  ever  military  glory ;  that  is,  he  had  chosen 
military  glory  as  that  which  was  most  desirable  to  him. 
In  this  work,  we  always  mean  by  the  term  strongest 
desire  the  strongest  pressure  or  tension  in  consciousness 
towards  activity  at  any  moment,  irrespective  of  whether 
this  happens  to  be  that  which  we  decide  on  the  whole  to 
be  the  best  thing  to  do. 

The  ideal  when  chosen  as  the  desirable  goal  of  action 
is  usually  and  regularly  accompanied  by  a  strong 
desire  (and  then  also,  of  course,  feeling).  But  when  the 
feeling  and  the  desire  went  out  like  a  burnt-out  match, 
the  ideal  remained  as  strong  a  motive  as  before.  Usu- 
ally when  the  mind  is  rested  and  turns  anew  its  atten- 
tion to  its  ideal,  the  old  fire  of  desire  flames  up  again 
with  all  its  former  heat.  But  when  the  desire  and  its 
feeling  die  down  again,  the  ideal  may  be  by  the  use  of 
will  power  as  effective  as  before. 

The  Struggle  between  the  Ideal  and  the  Desire.  — 
The  fact  that  the  ideal  can  be  a  constant  motive  inde- 


184         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

pendent  of  the  shifting  and  fitful  winds  of  desire  and 
feeling  makes  it  possible  to  work  on  steadily,  peacefully, 
and  evenly  towards  a  chosen  goal  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  impulses  (desires)  with  then*  feeling  are  in  a  con- 
stant flux  and  sometimes  entirely  absent. 

The  moral  arena  is  here.  This  is  the  battle  ground 
of  will.  The  battle  is  ever  between  the  ideal  and  the 
desire.  The  temptation  is  ever  to  follow  the  momen- 
tary desire,  and  all  desires  are  ever  "  momentary " 
and  nothing  else,  for  a  desire  that  does  not  exist  this 
moment  does  not  exist  at  all.  The  moral  victory 
always  consists  in  following  the  ideal  chosen  by  con- 
templation. 

THE  MOTOR  PROCESS  AND  THE  VOLUNTARY  PROCESS 

The  Motor  Process.  —  The  stream  of  thought  is 
constantly  passing  out  of  subconsciousness  in  the 
fringe  towards  the  center  of  attention  and  then  out 
again  into  the  fringe  of  subconsciousness.  What  par- 
ticular images  and  thoughts  are  to  pass  into  this  vortex 
depends,  the  will  being  absent,  upon  the  impulses, 
habits,  and  desires.  Using  desire  as  a  common  name 
for  the  three,  when  the  will  is  inactive,  the  strongest 
desire  will  always  conquer ;  that  is,  whatever  image  is 
in  the  center  of  attention  will  be  expressed  in  action. 

Thus  the  motor  process  is  this :  Will  being  absent, 
the  strongest  desire  determines  the  image  in  con- 
sciousness ;  as  soon  as  an  image  appears  in  conscious- 
ness, it  is  immediately  acted  out.  Hence  this  is  the 
psychic  series :  strongest  desire  —  image  —  action. 

The  Voluntary  Process.  —  The  will  may  change  the 
psychic  series  fundamentally,  (a)  By  an  act  of  will  we 


The  Will  185 

may  refuse  to  think  on  the  subject  of  our  strongest  f 
desires.    We  are  not  forced  to  allow  the  center  of  at-; 
tention  to  rest  upon  the  object  of  our  strongest  desire.  . 
The  power  of  voluntary  attention,  then,  is  the  essence  /  ,- 
of  the  "  freedom  of  the  will."    Voluntary  attention  is 
the  most  expensive  in  nerve  efforts  of  all  the  functions 
of  the  mind. 

(6)  The  will  may  inhibit  the  action  that  naturally 
follows  the  presence  of  an  image  in  consciousness.    This  ; 
makes  thought  and  imagination  without  action  pos-  ' 
sible. 

The  voluntary  process,  then,  is  very  simple.    We 
simply  imagine  the  act  we  will  to  do,  and  —  that's  all. 
The  complex  affair  is  not  to  act.    A  great  deal  of  our 
training  in  character  consists  in  learning  to  inhibit  the 
action  that  naturally  follows  an  image.    What  requires  / 
explanation  is  not  our  willing-to-do  but  our  willing-not-  ! 
to-do.    There  is  where  the  fiat  of  the  will  occurs.     In  * 
willing  to  do  anything,  we  simply  imagine  the  act  and 
"  let  go." 

GENERAL  CONSPECTUS  OF  THE  ACTIVE  SIDE  OP  HUMAN 

NATURE 

The  body  as  a  physiological  organism  functions  by 
motor  impulses  in  subconsciousness.  Some  of  its  pro- 
cesses, like  breathing,  may  be  at  will  brought  into  the 
voluntary  sphere.  The  body  is  also  protected  by  means 
of  reflex  actions  of  subconsciousness. 

Instinct  (or  blind  impulse)  is  almost  wholly  respon- 
sible for  the  conduct  of  the  young  child.  Instinct,  or 
blind  impulse,  together  with  habit  and  desire,  always 
continue  to  manage  the  greater  portions  of  our  lives 


186         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

measured  in  time.  Still  very  few  of  our  conscious 
moments  are  out  of  the  grasp  of  the  will  and  our  rational 
interests  (ideals).  This  seeming  contradiction  is  solved 
as  follows :  — 

When  I  awake  in  the  morning,  habit  is  usually  suffi- 
cient to  get  me  out  of  bed,  perform  the  morning  ablution, 
and  dress.  That  is,  no  specific  resolutions  of  the  will 
are  necessary.  If  I  have  routine  work,  there  is  small 
chance  that  anything  but  habit  will  be  necessary  to 
run  me  all  day.  Still  I  am  under  the  control  of  my 
ideals,  for,  some  time  in  the  past,  when  I  chose  my 
business  and  habituated  myself  to  my  daily  program, 
I  did  use  will  in  conforming  to  my  ideals.  But  suppose 
my  day's  work  is  not  all  cut  out  for  me.  Then  I  must 
decide  what  to  do.  Then  will  power  is  needed.  It  is 
a  beautiful  day,  and  I  am  fond  of  picnics.  Of  several 
attractive  ways  of  spending  the  day,  this  is  the  most 
attractive.  Hence  this  is  my  strongest  desire.1  Im- 
agination begins  to  picture  all  the  steps  preparatory  to 
picnic  going.  But  I  am  not  sure  that  such  a  course  is 
in  line  with  my  rational  interests.  So  I  inhibit  the 
actions  that  regularly  should  follow  these  ideas.  After 
some  deliberation  I  decide  that  it  is  best  that  I  should 
write  this  chapter  instead.  I  choose  the  writing  of  this 
chapter  as  my  ideal,  my  rational  interest  for  the  day. 
At  first  I  have  to  use  voluntary  attention  to  pin  myself 
down  to  the  work.  That  is,  I  must  by  a  sheer  effort  of 
the  will  keep  the  center  of  attention  on  my  work.  But 
soon  I  get  interested  in  my  work,  forget  sylvan  attrac- 
tions, and  my  strongest  desire  at  the  moment  is  usually 
just  what  I  am  thinking  about  and  doing.  So  that, 
1  See  above,  definition  of  strongest  desire. 


The  Will  187 

after  all,  only  during  a  little  fraction  of  the  day  have 
I  been  forcing  myself  to  abstain  from  following  my 
strongest  desire. 

This  is  the  universal  rule.    Normally  we  get  inter- 
ested in  our  work  after  a  few  moments  of  voluntary 
attention,  and  as  soon  as  we  get  interested  in  the  work 
set  us  by  our  ideals,  our  desires  and  our  ideals  are  in   j 
line  and  there  is  no  conflict. 

Since  no  impulse  or  desire  can  last  long  if  denied 
expression  and  attention,  we  align  our  desires  with  our 
ideals  by  keeping,  through  an  act  of  will  power,  our 
attention  on  the  course  of  action  prescribed  by  our 
ideal.  Restricted  to  that  field,  the  right  desire  will 
arise  in  response  to  the  only  stimulus  allowed,  and  nec- 
essarily pull  in  the  same  direction  as  our  ideal. 


Where  Military  Discipline  Fails.  —  The  proper  edu- 
cation of  the  will  presents  the  most  difficult  problem 
that  teacher  and  parent  have  to  solve.  It  is  not  a 
simple  affair  like  the  pedagogy  of  habit.  That  is 
where  military  discipline  fails.  The  soldier,  precise  in 
his  habits  as  a  machine,  is  not  famous  for  his  will 
power.  The  discharged  soldier  will  to  the  end  of  his 
days  keep  his  soldierly  bearing  and  address,  and  most 
of  his  orderly  personal  habits ;  but  for  all  that  many  a 
one  becomes  a  moral  wreck. 

The  system  of  close  supervision  and  military  dis- 
cipline in  schools  is  equally  successful  in  teaching  good 
habits  and  inadequate  in  training  the  will  aright.  Sup- 
pose a  pupil  is  every  moment  of  his  waking  hours  under 
the  watchful  eyes  of  a  custodian,  suppose  that  his  every 


188         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

action  is  prescribed.  That  may  provide  for  most  ex- 
cellent habits,  it  may  prescribe  an  exemplary  life  in 
every  detail,  and  still  in  one  respect  it  fails  not  only  to 
provide  training  of  the  will,  but  absolutely  prohibits 
any  such  training. 

Need  of  Allowing  Freedom.  —  In  order  that  the  will 
may  be  trained,  there  must  be  freedom.  But  when 
there  is  freedom  in  which  to  exercise  the  will,  there  is 
of  course  also  freedom  to  go  wrong.  Hence  we  are 
face  to  face  with  what  seems  like  a  contradiction. 

Still  that  contradiction  can  be  solved.  Begin  by 
giving  practically  no  liberty.  The  circle  of  liberty  at 
first  is  merely  a  mathematical  point.  As  children  ad- 
vance in  age  and  experience  give  them  a  little  more 
freedom.  If  they  prove  worthy  of  this  freedom,  in- 
crease it;  if  it  is  not  wisely  used,  let  a  part  of  the 
punishment  be  a  decreased  sphere  of  freedom. 

This  can  be  applied  in  dozens  of  ways.  Rules,  regu- 
lations, and  restrictions  should  diminish  as  the  pupil 
advances  in  school.  The  pupil  should  more  and  more 
be  trusted  on  his  honor.  He  should  have  increasing 
responsibility. 

Parents  should  allow  their  children  some  money,  with 
the  suggestion  that  they  spend  it  for  some  worthy  end. 
They  should  be  encouraged  to  save  up  then*  money  for 
something  worth  while  in  the  future.  Let  the  boy 
save  up  money  for  a  year  for  a  bicycle.  That  means, 
give  him  a  chance  to  earn  enough  for  a  wheel  in  a  year ; 
but  if  he  succumbs  to  the  temptation  of  the  soda  foun- 
tain and  spends  his  money  on  the  fleeting  pleasures  of 
the  day,  let  him  bear  the  punishment  of  being  without 
a  bicycle. 


The  Wm  189 

Give  Harry  freedom  to  visit  his  friend  and  spend 
his  half  holiday  as  he  pleases,  provided  he  comes  home 
at  the  hour  set  and  behaves  as  he  should  while  away ; 
but  if  he  fails  to  meet  these  requirements,  take  away 
his  freedom  in  this  respect  for  a  season. 

Parental  restraint  should  be  removed  very  gradually, 
so  that  when  the  young  man  or  woman  leaves  the  pro- 
tection of  the  parental  roof,  there  is  no  appreciable 
increase  in  his  freedom.  There  should  be  the  corre- 
sponding increase  in  responsibility.  Let  the  boy  early 
keep  his  own  clothing  in  shape  and  care  for  his  own 
room.  A  little  later,  let  him  order  his  own  clothes  and 
pay  for  them  from  his  own  earnings.  Doing  the  chores 
around  the  house  has  of  old  been  the  boy's  portion,  and 
there  is  good  pedagogy  in  this  arrangement. 

By  all  means  foster  the  young  person's  appreciation 
of  the  importance  of  a  strong  will,  and  teach  the  dignity 
of  the  free  and  loyal  person. 

Exercises 

Prove  the  following  propositions :  — 

1.  The  strongest  desire  is  not  always  the  motive  we  follow. 

2.  It  is  hardest  to  keep  the  attention  on  our  study  the  first 
few  moments  after  some  interesting  diversion. 

3.  Motive  habits  differ  from  instinct  only  in  being  acquired. 
Solve  the  following  problems :  — 

4.  One  youngster  held  a  heavy  ax  edge  downward  over  a 
block  of  wood.     Another  child  put  his  hand  under  the  ax  and 
said,   "  I  dare  you  to  cut  off  my  finger."     What  happened? 

5.  Why  is  it  so  hard  to  do  the  right  motions  in  the  game, 
"  Simon  says,  '  Thumbs  up '  "  ? 

6.  How  are  ideals  chosen  ? 

7.  Illustrate  by  characters  from  history  what  is  meant  by  & 
strong  will. 


CHAPTER  XX 

THE    CREATION    OF   IDEALS 

THE  FAILURE  OF  ABSTRACT  MORALITY 

WE  are  saved  by  hero  worship.  Only  by  devotion 
to  some  person  are  our  lives  transformed  from  mere 
animalism  to  spirituality. 

The  Man  of  Abstract  "  Principles."  —  There  is  a 
certain  very  respectable  sort  of  character  which  is 
based  on  nothing  but  abstract  formulas.  Such  a 
character  is  a  clever  counterfeit,  and  passes  current 
the  world  over ;  but  when  the  real  acid  test  is  applied, 
he  shows  the  baser  metal.  Take  a  narrow,  stolid, 
cold  soul  to  start  with,  one  whose  appetites  and  pas- 
sions are  not  very  strong,  and  whose  feelings  are  not 
very  sensitive.  Take,  that  is,  one  of  these  comfort- 
able little  persons  whose  head  has  never  bumped 
against  the  ceiling  of  environment,  and  give  him  a 
training  that  early  fixes  the  grooves  in  his  brain,  so 
that  his  habits  move  like  clockwork.  Such  a  person 
will  infallibly  act  according  to  conventional  morality; 
but  it  is  little  more  to  his  praise  than  correct  time- 
keeping is  to  a  watch.  He  is  nothing  but  a  machine. 
He  acts  as  he  does  from  mere  habit.  He  has  not  soul 
enough  to  spoil.  He  does  not  lie  or  steal,  because  he 
has  not  the  required  moral  courage  or  initiative. 

For  long  stretches  of  everyday  life,  such  a  character 

190 


The  Creation  of  Ideals  191 

cannot  be  distinguished  from  the  genuine  article. 
But  there  are  times  that  try  men's  souls.  Then  watch 
your  man  of  "  principle,"  whose  principles  are  only  a 
better  sort  of  prejudices.  He  will  not  stand  the  test. 
He  has  no  high  and  noble  ideals.  His  morality  is 
mere  habit,  and  when  justice  demands  that  he  shall 
leave  his  ruts  he  cannot  obey. 

Faith  is  the  only  basis  for  ideals.  There  is  no  such 
thing  as  devotion  to  abstractions.  No  person  is  de- 
voted to  "  duty  for  duty's  sake."  We  do  not  love 
Truth  spelled  with  ever  so  big  a  capital.  We  love 
truthful  persons.  We  are  never  the  slaves  of  beauty, 
but  we  may  be  enthralled  by  the  beautiful.  What  is 
mistaken  for  devotion  to  abstractions  is  often  a  mere 
set  of  habits. 

Abstract  Moral  Training  Poor  Pedagogy.  —  It  is 
this  failure  of  the  human  mind  to  be  moved  by  abstrac- 
tions that  gives  rise  to  the  problem  of  moral  training 
in  the  school.  Every  now  and  then  some  well-meaning 
brother  or  sister  rises  up  and  demands  that  our  schools 
teach  morals.  Texts  on  morals  have  been  written, 
and  Solonic  legislatures  have  ordered  that  our  teachers 
"  shall  teach  honesty,  truthfulness,  chastity,  industry," 
etc.,  to  the  end  of  the  category.  But  it  is  difficult  to  see 
how  text-and-recitation  work  in  the  virtues  will  improve 
the  morality  of  our  race.  What  is  needed  is  life,  not 
more  knowledge;  moral  energy,  not  commandments. 
These  advocates  of  the  teaching  of  rules  ought  to  read 
Paul's  dissertation  on  this  subject.  His  assertion  that 
the  law  is  impotent  to  save  from  sin  is  as  good  psy- 
chology as  it  is  theology. 

Of  direct  teaching  of  "  morality  "  or  ideals  there 


192         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

should  be  very  little,  if  any.  We  all  hate  to  be  told 
to  be  good,  for  this  is  an  insult  to  our  common  sense. 
Very  few  people,  happily,  need  be  told  that  industry, 
sobriety,  mercy,  justice,  and  the  like  are  virtues ;  and 
that  the  vices  are  bad.  I  say  "  happily,"  for  if  a  per- 
son is  so  lacking  in  moral  sense  that  it  is  not  self-evi- 
dent to  him  that  virtue  is  right  and  vice  is  wrong,  a  mere 
telling  him  that  such  is  the  case  availeth  not.  He 
needs  to  feel  that  it  is  so.  The  trouble  with  the  world 
is  not  the  lack  of  knowledge  of  good  and  evil.  What 
we  need  is  the  will  and  power  to  live  lives  consistent 
with  our  convictions. 

The  inculcation  of  ideals  should  be  incidental. 
When,  in  history  or  literature,  or  in  the  daily  incidents 
of  the  school,  a  moral  question  comes  up,  the  true 
teacher  goes  on  record  with  no  uncertain  sound.  He 
always  takes  the  broad,  sympathetic,  but  also  immu- 
tably honest  and  just  attitude  towards  every  question 
involving  a  moral  issue.  And  he  takes  it  with  warmth. 
He  is  enthusiastic  for  the  cause  of  God  and  humanity. 
He  will  inoculate  his  pupils  with  the  same  enthusiasm. 
They  will  catch  the  contagion  of  his  ideals. 

THE  BEST  METHOD  OF  MORAL  INSTRUCTION 

Sympathy  and  Example.  —  How  can  we  implant 
these  ideals  in  our  pupils  ?  How  can  we  refine,  broaden, 
and  strengthen  their  ideals?  Not  by  drill,  not  by 
increasing  their  knowledge,  not  by  training  their  logi- 
cal faculties,  not  by  the  study  of  moral  philosophy. 
There  is  but  one  way,  that  is  by  sympathy  and  ex- 
ample. Only  a  human  heart  ever  moves  vitally  a 
human  heart.  The  first  requisite,  then,  for  the  teacher 


The  Creation  of  Ideals  193 

who  wishes  to  develop  character,  is  to  have  a  strong 
and  sympathetic  soul.  He  must  have  the  ideals  he 
wishes  to  develop  in  others.  These  ideals  must  be 
triumphant  in  his  own  life.  High  ideals  count  for 
nothing  if  the  person  is  fitfully  ruled  by  passions  and 
appetites.  This  strong,  ideal-ruled  soul  must  also  be 
sympathetic.  Now  and  then  we  find  a  really  good 
man  who  is  constitutionally  cold  and  distant,  and  who 
for  this  reason  can  never  be  an  inspiration.  Such  per- 
sons should  not  become  teachers. 

Every  act  is  an  influence  for  higher  ideals  when  the 
soul  is  in  possession  of  higher  ideals  and  is  faithful 
and  sympathetic.  Such  a  teacher  cannot  hide  his 
light  under  a  bushel.  He  may  be  forbidden  to  say 
one  word  on  religion,  he  may  never  once  in  his  teachings 
refer  to  the  virtues,  but  he  can  no  more  help  sowing 
and  growing  higher  ideals  in  his  pupils  than  the  sun 
can  help  shining.  Every  look  is  a  benediction ;  every 
word  is  instinct  with  the  higher  life  of  the  spirit  that 
uttered  it.  The  spirit  in  which  he  meets  opposition, 
the  attitude  he  manifests  toward  the  vital  questions 
of  humanity,  the  interest  he  takes  in  the  welfare  of 
his  pupils,  are  so  many  ways  by  which  the  nobility  of 
the  soul  of  the  teacher  stands  forth  and  awakens  no- 
bility in  the  pupils  in  response. 

The  Need  of  Individual  Work.  —  To  awaken  ideals 
for  the  higher  life,  individual  work  is  the  most  fruit- 
ful. We  cannot  save  men  wholesale;  it  is  a  retail 
business.  The  soul  of  finer  grain  shrinks  from  laying 
bare  its  holy  of  holies  in  a  crowd.  If  you  want  to  get 
at  the  inmost  being  of  your  pupil,  —  and  you  do  want 
this  if  you  intend  to  help  him  to  greater  ideals,  —  you 


194         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

must  be  alone  with  him.  To  administer  properly  this 
sacrament  of  soul  communion,  is  not  a  grace  given 
unto  all  teachers,  and  for  some  to  attempt  it  were 
sacrilege ;  but  many  can  attain  this  art,  and  no  attain- 
ment is  greater. 

If  I  were  a  bishop  about  to  ordain  a  class  of  men  for 
the  ministry,  this  is  what  I  would  say :  Preach  and 
pray  and  teach  by  all  means  whenever  you  have  an 
opportunity;  but  don't  expect  to  save  the  world  that 
way.  Remember  that  the  world  is  perishing  for  the 
want  of  individual  work.  There  is  probably  not  one 
person  out  of  a  thousand  who  is  not  longing,  consciously 
or  unconsciously,  for  some  stronger  and  wiser  soul  with 
whom  he  might  be  intimate,  and  with  whom  he  could 
share  his  hopes,  his  fears,  his  worries,  and  aspirations. 
But  this  intimate  soul  sharing  is  sacred  work ;  would 
to  God  that  you  were  struck  dead  the  moment  you 
approach  it  with  unclean  hands!  Never  do  you  need 
to  feel  the  presence  of  God  more  clearly  and  more  truly 
than  when  you  have  but  one  listener  and  you  are  com- 
muning with  his  inmost  soul. 

The  adolescent  needs  especially  a  confidential  ad- 
viser and  leader,  not  only  in  questions  touching  sexual 
subjects,  but  for  the  whole  new  realm  of  his  increased 
spiritual  life.  Don't  say  that  this  is  the  duty  of  the 
parents.  You  know,  as  a  matter  of  fact,  most  parents 
are  not  the  confidants  of  their  half-grown  and  grown 
children.  Many  are  not  fit  to  be  anybody's  confidants. 
Many  more  have  an  unconquerable  aversion  against 
intruding  on  the  privacy  of  their  children's  inner  life. 
Most  important  of  all  in  this  connection  is  to  notice 
that  with  very  many  adolescents  the  persons  they  last 


The  Creation  of  Ideals  195 

of  all  would  make  their  confidants  are  their  parents. 
They  may  love  their  parents  immensely;  they  may 
feel  perfectly  free  and  easy  in  their  company  —  but 
to  confide  to  them  the  inmost  soul  —  no,  they  cannot. 
Honestly,  now,  wasn't  that  your  experience?  If  you 
made  a  confidant  of  any  one  on  the  subject  of  your 
personal  religion  or  love,  was  this  confidant  one  of 
your  parents  ? 

THE  CULTIVATION  OF  HIGH  IDEALS 

And  how  may  the  teacher  best  become  this  spiritual 
adviser  and  leader?  Simply  by  embodying  in  his  own 
life  the  ideals  he  wishes  to  develop  in  his  pupils. 

Emphasize  that  which  is  noble  and  refined  in  your 
nature.  Be  on  the  alert  to  give  your  higher  self  every 
opportunity  for  expression. 

Be  true  to  your  ideals.  Do  not  let  your  life  be  a 
patchwork  of  devotion  to  what  you  deem  noblest,  and 
base  surrender  to  appetite  and  desire. 

Be  consistent.  Don't,  as  Professor  James  says,  try 
to  run  several  conflicting  selves  at  once.  Take  your 
ideals  with  you,  and  the  same  ideals,  and  live  up 
to  them  when  at  home  or  abroad,  at  work  and  in 
vacation. 

Do.  Never  feel  satisfied  with  mere  feeling.  Put 
every  ideal  into  action  at  the  earliest  possible  oppor- 
tunity; and  don't  wait  for  the  opportunity,  but  make 
it.  The  world  is  full  of  fine  worthless  fellows,  who 
think  entrancing  thoughts  and  fairly  gush  with  the 
noblest  sentiments,  who  are  so  busy  admiring  their 
stock  of  ideals  that  they  never  get  around  to  doing 
anything. 


196         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Seek  the  society  and  confidence  of  those  whose  ideals 
are  higher  than  your  own.  Two  coals  burn  better 
than  one. 

Settle  the  religious  question  for  yourself  and  live  up 
to  the  settlement.  This  question  of  ideals  is  essentially 
a  religious  one,  and  indifference  to  religion  is  incom- 
patible with  high  and  true  ideals. 

Exercises 

1.  Try  to  find  a  man  in  history  who  preached  only  an  abstract 
moral  philosophy  whose  moral  influence  has  been  equal  to  that 
of  St.  Bernard,  St.  Francis,  or  John  Wesley. 

2.  Think  of  some  case  in  your  own  experience  of  some  one 
who  was  saved  by  hero  worship. 

3.  Think  of  some  one  who  was  ruined  by  hero  worship. 


THE  supreme  object  of  life  is  the  formation  of  the 
right  kind  of  character.  Character  is  determined  by 
the  fixation  of  the  motives.  Hence  a  study  of  charac- 
ter is  a  review  from  the  standpoint  of  morals  of  what 
we  have  studied  about  motives. 

ELEMENTS  OF  A  WELL-DEVELOPED  CHARACTER 

Self-control.  —  The  virtue  of  the  impulses  is  self- 
control.  The  person  of  good  character  is  master  of 
himself.  In  the  huge  welter  of  impulses  and  emotions, 
desires,  inclinations,  and  instincts  we  have  the  power 
to  choose  some  to  be  realized  and  leave  others.  The 
well-born  and  well-educated  person  has  his  desires, 
instincts,  and  appetites  well  balanced  and  proportioned. 
He  follows  the  Greek  motto,  "  Measure  in  all  things." 

Systematized  Habits.  —  The  virtue  of  the  habits 
is  system.  By  all  means,  systematize  life.  Nothing 
adds  to  the  efficiency  of  life  more  than  well-ordered 
habits.  The  strong,  well-developed  character  has  a 
corps  of  efficient  habits,  thoroughly  trained  and  or- 
ganized to  do  its  bidding. 

But  like  most  other  good  things,  habits  are  good 
servants  but  poor  masters.  The  person  who  is  abso- 
lutely under  the  control  of  the  habits  of  thought  and 

197 


198         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

action  which  he  has  adopted  can  make  no  progress, 
can  accomplish  no  mental  growth. 

Breadth  and  Refinement  of  Ideals.  —  The  vir- 
tues of  the  ideals  are  several.  The  rational  interests 
or  ideals  of  a  good  character  must  be  adequate,  noble, 
and  refined;  and,  to  have  all  these  characteristics,  our 
ideals  must  be  the  product  of  a  certain  evolution.  They 
ought  to  broaden  with  the  years  and  add  layer  over 
layer  of  wider  interests.  One's  ideal  should  be  to  live 
in  true  harmony  with  all  conscious  beings,  and  to  fur- 
ther by  one's  life  the  true  happiness  of  all  persons. 
But  it  is  not  enough  that  our  ideals  be  broad  and  un- 
selfish. They  should  also  be  noble  and  refined.  The 
converted  slave  who  prayed  that  his  fellow  men  might 
have  all  the  tobacco  they  wanted  to  smoke,  was  an 
unselfish  and  kind-hearted  soul;  but  his  conceptions 
of  ideal  humanity  were  not  very  lofty  or  refined.  No 
mechanical  and  external  graduated  scale  can  be  given 
for  nobility  of  ideals,  for  the  scale  itself  is  growing. 
Our  notions  of  what  is  refined  differ  even  from  those 
our  fathers  had.  This  is  because  the  ethical  ideal  of 
every  civilization  is  a  living,  growing  affair.  Every 
age  approximates  the  perfect  ideal,  and  the  ethical 
progress  consists  in  getting  nearer  to  this  highest 
ideal.  Our  faith  is,  therefore,  that  healthy,  well- 
balanced  persons  in  healthy,  well-balanced  ages  and 
communities  are  continually  approximating  more  and 
more  nearly  to  the  absolute  ideal  as  it  exists  in  the 
Divine  Mind. 

Strength  of  Will.  —  The  virtue  of  the  will  is  strength. 
How  strong  should  the  will  be?  Strong  enough  to 
keep  us  true  to  our  rational  interests.  The  man  of 


Character  199 

strong  character  follows  his  ideals,  not  his  impulses 
or  desires.  An  ideal  may  be  defined  as  a  chosen  goal 
for  action.  The  question  of  the  freedom  of  the  will 
is  one  that  cannot  be  touched  here;  and  the  expres- 
sion "  rational  freedom  "  of  the  will  is  not  always  used 
with  the  same  meaning;  but  when  a  person  has  con- 
quered his  impulses  and  desires  so  perfectly  that  he 
always  does  what  his  reason  tells  him  is  best,  despite 
his  momentary  passions  and  appetites,  his  will  may  be 
said  to  have  acquired  its  rational  freedom.  He  has 
ideals  and  is  true  to  them. 

He  who  is  rationally  free  has  the  same  desires  and 
instincts  as  other  men,  but  he  is  not  ruled  by  them.  His 
ideals  are  supreme.  Every  voluntary  act  or  thought 
of  his  is  directed  to  the  end  he  has  chosen.  This  pre- 
supposes that  he  has  chosen  an  end.  His  life  is  ra- 
tionalized. He  has  something  to  live  for.  He  does 
not  follow  the  direction  of  the  push  and  pull  of  mo- 
mentary and  ever  shifting  desire  and  instinct,  but  he 
controls  indirectly  even  his  desires,  appetites,  and  pas- 
sions. He  is  indeed  a  free  man  I 


SUMMARY 

The  well-developed  character,  then,  has  the  following 
attributes :  — 

Impulses  normal  and  natural,  refined  and  under  con- 
trol of  the  will. 

Habits  of  virtue,  industry,  work,  order,  and  optimism 
perfectly  formed ;  but  slavery  to  no  habit. 

Emotions  refined,  sensitive,  and  strong,  but  under 
control  of  the  will. 


200         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Ideals  supreme  over  all,  unselfish,  adequate,  true  to 
the  highest  standards  of  our  civilization  and  living; 
and  hence  growing  and  constantly  approximating  the 
absolute  ideal. 

A  Will  that  holds  impulses,  feelings,  and  habits  sub- 
ordinate to  the  chosen  ideals. 


(C).  Subconsciousness 

CHAPTER  XXII 

THE  SUBCONSCIOUS  LIFE 

THE  FIELD  OP  CONSCIOUSNESS 

As  we  have  already  noticed  there  is  a  single  force  — 
consciousness  —  which  is  operative  in  the  highest  and 
lowest  processes  of  the  human  organism.  The  fun- 
damental characteristic  of  consciousness,  its  power  of 
concentration,  we  have  studied  at  length  under  at- 
tention. We  are  vividly  conscious,  fully  alive,  to  only 
one  aspect  of  one  topic  of  thought  at  once ;  all  the  rest 
of  the  field  of  consciousness  shades  off  rapidly  from  this 
central  point  of  light  into  the  penumbra  and  twilight  of 
partial  consciousness.  This  surrounding  twilight  of 
half  thought  is  called  subconsdousness,  or,  as  it  has 
been  well  named  by  Professor  James,  the  "  fringe  "  of 
thought. 

Thus  we  may  arbitrarily  divide  the  field  of  conscious- 
ness into  clear  consciousness  and  subconsciousness. 
In  the  same  way  we  may  recognize  all  degrees  of  sub- 
consciousness,  from  what  is  almost  complete  con- 
sciousness to  the  absolute  night  of  unconsciousness. 
Although,  for  instance,  we  have  no  smallest  inkling  of 
consciousness  in  the  action  of  the  lymphatic  glands,  still 
they  seem  to  be  vitally  and  directly  connected  with  our 

201 


202         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

consciousness,  so  that  it  seems  best  to  consider  that  such 
purely  physiological  functions  share  in  consciousness, 
though  so  infinitesimally  that  we  cannot  directly  recog- 
nize it. 

Characteristics  of  Subconsciousness.  —  All  the  vital 
functions,  the  whole  physiological  machinery,  is  oper- 
ated by  our  subcohsciousness.  The  building  and  tear- 
ing down  of  cells,  the  secretion  of  the  glands,  digestion, 
respiration,  the  circulation  of  the  blood  —  all  are  carried 
on  by  the  subconscious  vital  force,  which  not  only  sup- 
plies the  energy,  but  also  furnishes  the  plan  or  model 
which  then  is  incarnate  in  the  flesh.  This  is  deep  down 
in  subconsciousness,  and  nothing  of  it  ever  comes  even 
into  the  partial  twilight  where  conscious  observation 
is  possible. 

Many  bodily  functions  come  much  higher  up  in  con- 
sciousness. Thus,  within  certain  limits,  we  can  breathe 
or  stop  breathing  as  we  please.  Sneezing,  hunger, 
thirst,  fatigue,  rise  out  of  the  subconscious  gloom  into 
clear  consciousness  and  tell  us  of  the  condition  of  the 
bodily  organs.  But  they  are  still  in  origin  and  control 
subconscious. 

THE  TENDENCY  TO  REACT 

Reaction  to  Stimuli.  —  All  consciousness  responds  to 
stimulation.  This,  as  we  have  seen,  is  one  of  its  funda- 
mental characteristics,  from  the  highest  reason  to  the 
lowest  subconscious  vital  force.  It  is  responsive. 
Thus  a  lofty  ideal  stimulates  the  hero  to  action.  A 
straw  tickling  the  breast  of  the  headless  frog  will  be 
responded  to  by  the  brushing  motion  of  a  foreleg.  The 
presence  of  a  liquid  in  the  mouth  of  a  sleeping  person 


The  Subconscious  Life  203 

will  make  him  swallow.  Lack  of  oxygen  in  the  blood 
will  produce  a  yawn.  A  doleful  thought  will  make  the 
tears  start.  The  appreciation  of  the  ludicrous  will 
start  a  smile.  A  savory  odor  when  one  is  hungry  will 
make  the  mouth  "  water."  A  soft  answer  turneth  away 
wrath.  The  small  boy  itches  to  spoil  the  dude's  hat 
with  a  snowball.  A  difficult  mathematical  problem 
stimulates  the  thinker  to  try  to  solve  it. 

Responsiveness  to  Suggestion.  —  Responsiveness  to 
suggestion  is  really  one  type  of  reaction  to  stimulus,  but 
it  needs  a  special  treatment.  A  fundamental  charac- 
teristic of  consciousness  is  its  striving  to  make  real 
whatever  is  presented  to  it  ideally,  that  is,  pictured  to 
it.  Consciousness  is  ever  busy  realizing  the  ideal.  Thus 
when  I  wish  to  take  my  watch  from  my  pocket  to  see 
what  time  it  is,  I  simply  imagine  myself  doing  just  this, 
then  let  myself  go,  and  it  is  done.  Hence,  if  a  person 
does  not  restrain  himself,  he  does  whatever  he  imagines. 
A  child  telling  a  story  invariably  acts  it  out ;  not  be- 
cause it  is  anxious  to  make  the  story  plain  to  its  auditors, 
but  simply  because  its  imagination  of  these  actions 
suggests  them  to  the  motor  centers,  and  the  dramatic 
rendering  is  the  natural  result.  If  we  do  not  consciously 
inhibit  the  action,  we  beat  time  with  foot  or  head  to  the 
music  we  hear,  because  the  rhythm  suggests  these  move- 
ments. Nervous  people  feel  a  strong  impulse  to  throw 
themselves  over  precipices  when  standing  on  the  brink. 
They  cannot  help  imagining  very  forcibly  how  awful  a 
tragedy  it  would  be  to  fall  over  the  precipice.  This 
imagination  of  the  act  of  the  tragedy  acts  as  a  suggestion 
to  the  mind,  and  it  has  a  strong  impulse  to  make  this 
miage  real. 


204         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

All  consciousness,  whether  clear  or  subconscious, 
responds  to  suggestion,  but  our  clear  consciousness  has 
the  power  of  inhibiting  the  response  to  suggestions, 
while  our  subconsciousness  has  not  the  power  to  inhibit 
this  response.  It  will  respond  with  fatalistic  certainty 
to  every  suggestion  that  reaches  it.  Hence  the  impor- 
tance of  guarding  our  subconsciousness  from  wrong  sug- 
gestions. 

Subconscious  Reactions.  —  Subconsciousness  acts 
solely  in  response  to  stimulus  and  suggestion.  The  phys- 
iological machinery  seems  to  be  self-exciting.  The 
lack  of  oxygen  in  the  blood  in  the  lungs  stimulates  the 
chest  to  expansion.  Emptiness  of  the  digestive  organs 
produces  hunger.  A  lesion  stimulates  the  phagocytes 
to  congregate. 

External  or  physical  stimulus,  that  is,  stimulus  from 
other  material  agents  not  of  the  organism  itself,  has 
great  influence  on  the  subconscious  mind.  To  this 
belong  all  the  effects  of  drugs,  food,  heat,  cold,  wounds, 
and,  in  general,  the  contact  with  the  rest  of  the  universe. 

But  a  vast  and  undefined  region  is  yet  left  for  sug- 
gestion. Subconsciousness  takes  its  orders  regularly 
from  above,  from  clear  consciousness.  Every  state  of 
clear  consciousness  acts  as  a  suggestion  to  subconscious- 
ness.  All  that  we  consciously  think,  feel,  and  do  sifts 
down  to  the  subconscious  and  colors  it.  Our  subcon- 
sciousness is  constantly  saturated  with  the  suggestion 
derived  from  our  conscious  life. 

Cumulative  Effect  of  Suggestion.  —  Merely  thinking 
once,  "  I  will  soon  die,"  will  not  kill  you.  But  repeating 
this  thought  day  after  day,  hour  after  hour,  allowing  it 
to  depress  your  spirits  and  influence  your  conscious 


The  Subconscious  Life  205 

actions,  this  will  surely  be  very  detrimental  to  your 
health,  and  may  shorten  your  life. 

The  subconscious  mind  is  the  repository  for  the  prod- 
ucts of  the  conscious  activity  of  the  mind.  Every 
thought,  every  feeling,  every  act  leaves  its  impression 
on  our  minds.  Each  individual  mental  event  leaves 
behind  itself  an  influence,  light  and  fragile  as  a  gossamer 
thread,  but  still  a  filament  that  tends  to  bind  us  faster 
to  some  conviction,  attitude,  character,  morality,  or 
immorality.  But  though  the  influence  of  each  act  of 
the  mind  may  be  frail  as  a  spider's  web,  the  united 
power  of  a  long-continued  course  of  action  becomes 
strong  as  iron  bands.  We  are  daily  hammering  out  our 
own  character  and  destiny,  and  though  we  are  every 
minute  free  to  act  as  we  choose,  the  accumulated  result 
leads  us  whithersoever  it  will.  It  has  become  a  Fate. 

THE  STREAM   OF  THOUGHT 

From  out  the  mysterious  depths  of  the  subconscious 
there  wells  up  constantly  into  our  full  consciousness  a 
spring  of  thoughts,  feelings,  and  impulses,  colored  al- 
ready by  our  dominant  mood.  The  nature  of  this 
stream  of  emotions,  aspirations,  appetites,  and  moods 
is  determined  by  the  nature  of  our  subconsciousness. 
And  this  subconsciousness  is,  in  its  turn,  determined  by 
the  sum  total  of  the  suggestions  we  have  sunk  into  it 
from  our  conscious  mental  life. 

This  stream,  then,  that  takes  its  rise  from  this  spring 
from  subconsciousness  flows  across  the  brief  field  of 
clear  consciousness  to  be  again  lost  in  the  deepening 
shades  of  subconsciousness.  Here  it  acts  as  a  sugges- 
tion for  the  future  to  the  subconscious. 


206         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Character  of  this  Stream  of  Thought  dependent  on 
Ourselves.  —  If  this  stream  were  an  affair  of  fate  so 
that  we  could  in  nowise  change  its  nature,  then  this 
whole  study  were  interesting,  perhaps,  but  certainly 
impractical.  But  we  can  change  the  nature  of  the 
stream  of  thought  and  feeling  in  full  consciousness. 
By  using  our  voluntary  attention  we  can  suppress  any 
thought  at  will,  and  substitute  another  for  it.  We 
cannot  directly  change  our  feelings,  but  we  can  suppress 
the  expression  of  the  undesirable  feelings,  and  then  they 
will  soon  vanish,  and  we  can  cultivate  and  emphasize 
the  expression  of  virile,  optimistic  feelings,  and  thereby 
strengthen  such  feelings.  Thus  the  right  suggestions 
will  be  given  to  the  subconscious,  and  in  time  the  waters 
from  its  spring  will  be  sweet. 

EFFECT  OF  SUBCONSCIOUS  LIFE  UPON  HEALTH  AND 
CHARACTER 

The  suggestions  of  our  conscious  life  to  our  subcon- 
sciousness  make  or  ruin  health  and  character.  "  As  a 
man  thinketh,  so  is  he,"  comes  very  near  being  an  ab- 
solute scientific  truth.  He  who  thinks,  acts,  and  feels 
health,  vigor,  triumph,  and  harmony  will  be  healthy, 
vigorous,  successful,  happy.  Causes  external  to  him 
may  sometimes  mar  the  perfection  of  this  result,  but  he 
is  certainly  always  much  happier,  healthier,  and  more 
successful  than  he  would  have  been  if  he  had  given  re- 
pining, regret,  and  dejection  a  place  in  his  life.  Con- 
versely, it  is  almost  certain  that  timorous,  cowardly 
souls  who  always  fear  that  sorrow,  sickness,  and  dis- 
aster are  to  overtake  them,  who  always  look  on  the  dark 
side  of  life,  will  be  in  poor  health,  be  unfortunate  in 


The  Subconscious  Life  207 

their  work,  and,  in  general,  be  failures.  It  shall  be  unto 
thee  according  to  thy  faith. 

Many,  however,  object  to  this  view.  Many  a  famous 
worrier,  they  contend,  enjoys  good  health  and  a  long 
life,  and  often  misfortune  overtakes  us  where  we  cer- 
tainly had  never  invited  it  by  expecting  it. 

In  answer,  it  may  be  pointed  out  that  much  of  the 
worry  of  the  professional  worrier  is  only  skin  deep  and 
covers  a  soul  that  at  bottom  is  quite  optimistic  and 
confident  of  the  future.  Then  it  is  to  be  noticed  that 
nature  is  patient  and  long-suffering  in  this  department 
as  well  as  in  all  others.  It  is  wonderful  what  amount 
of  abuse  human  nature  will  stand  before  it  is  ruined. 
Then  it  should  not  be  forgotten,  that  this  theory  does 
not  try  to  explain  everything  by  suggestion.  In  order 
to  break  one's  leg  in  a  railway  accident,  it  is  not  at  all 
necessary  or  even  possible  to  have  brought  it  on  by 
autosuggestion. 

The  subconscious  does  not  understand  a  negative.  The 
suggestion  to  the  subconsciousness  is  furnished  by  the 
image  before  the  mind.  To  imagine  something  undesir- 
able, and  then  say  to  one's  self,  "  I  will  not  do  that," 
does  not  destroy  the  evil  suggestion.  As  far  as  sugges- 
tion goes,  it  is  just  as  bad  to  think,  "  I  have  not  con- 
sumption," as  to  think,  "  I  have  consumption,"  for 
the  mental  image  is  the  same  in  both  cases.  Of  course, 
the  grammatical  form  does  not  matter;  the  image  in 
the  mind  is  the  only  important  affair.  This  image 
should  always  be  cheerful,  optimistic,  tonic. 

Effect  of  the  Morbid.  —  The  mind  finds  an  unhealthy 
enjoyment  in  reveling  in  the  details  of  crime  and  suffer- 
ing. Hence,  detailed  accounts  of  murders,  executions, 


208         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

accidents,  misfortunes,  and  other  horrors  are  a  promi- 
nent feature  in  the  daily  press.  Children  love  ghost 
stories,  and  silly  nurses'  tales  of  the  bogey  man  are  lis- 
tened to  with  horrified  interest.  A  friend  of  mine  tells 
me  that  in  his  childhood  he  used  to  sit  on  the  edge  of 
the  bed  and  listen  to  ghost  stories  until  he  was  afraid 
the  ghost  might  come  in  the  dark  under  the  bed  and  grab 
his  legs.  But  he  could  not  choose  but  hear.  This 
kind  of  suggestion  to  the  subconscious  is  very  harmful, 
especially  to  the  young. 

Effect  of  the  Indecent.  —  Young  people,  especially 
boys,  are  tempted  to  indulge  in  stories,  thoughts,  and 
fancies  that  border  more  or  less  closely  on  the  indecent. 
They  should  remember  that  the  soul,  especially  its 
subconscious  phase,  is  like  a  sheet  of  white  paper,  and 
that  every  base  suggestion  is  like  a  rub  by  a  grimy  hand 
on  this  paper.  There  are  soul  erasers,  happily,  and  the 
marks  may  be  rubbed  out,  but  the  unsullied  purity  of 
the  days  before  the  grime,  cannot  be  restored.  The 
soul,  like  the  paper,  retains  some  trace  of  the  soil. 

Protection  against  Evil  Suggestions.  —  We  should 
shun  all  imagination  of  evil  and  wrong,  for  thus  by  evil 
thoughts  and  wrong  ideas  we  store  up  iniquity  for 
ourselves  in  subconsciousness.  Here,  however,  we  run 
up  against  a  practical  difficulty.  It  is  impossible  to  do 
one's  duty  in  this  world  without  witnessing,  knowing, 
and  thinking  about  much  that  is  evil,  ugly,  and  sad. 
The  teacher  must  hear  and  read  libraries  of  bad  gram- 
mar and  illogical  thought.  The  doctor  spends  his  time 
with  sickness  and  death.  The  lawyer  deals  with 
wrongs  of  all  kinds,  and  gets  very  familiar  with  the 
seamy  side  of  life.  Besides,  every  intelligent  person 


The  Subconscious  Life  209 

must  know  something  about  history  and  contemporary 
life,  and  how  full  is  not  this  with  ignorance,  vice,  and 
crime  ? 

In  solution  of  this  problem,  this  may  be  said :  First, 
an  antidote  should  be  taken  against  this  necessary  evil. 
Let  the  teacher  read  some  classical  literature  every  day, 
to  take  the  taint  of  school  compositions  out  of  his 
system.  Let  the  doctor,  the  lawyer,  and  the  business 
man  choose  some  line  of  ideal  pursuit  as  far  as  possible 
away  from  the  prosaic  side  of  their  callings,  and  devote 
some  time  every  day  to  this  line  of  work,  to  act  as  an 
antidote  to  the  carking  cares,  the  souring  or  fossilizing 
influences  of  their  business  upon  their  subconscious- 
nesses.  Literature,  some  university  extension  study, 
gardening,  amateur  photography,  painting,  music,  the 
study  of  birds  through  an  opera  glass,  are  some  sugges- 
tions of  such  ideal  occupations.  Thus  Stedman  was  a 
banker  and  a  poet,  and  Gladstone  was  a  statesman,  a 
Homeric  scholar,  and  a  theologian. 

But  the  most  important  thing  to  remember  about 
our  undesirable  experiences  is  that  to  a  very  great 
extent  the  impression  that  they  will  make  upon  the 
subconscious  self  depends  upon  our  own  attitude.  A 
duck  may  be  in  the  water  all  day,  and  still  never  a 
drop  touches  the  skin  protected  by  feathers.  Likewise, 
if  we  do  not  with  morbid  sympathy  fondle  the  evil  and 
the  untoward  that  necessarily  meet  us  in  life,  very 
little  will  penetrate  to  our  deeper  self.  The  teacher 
thinks  vividly  of  the  right  forms  when  he  corrects  ex- 
ercises. Hence  these,  upon  which  he  puts  his  sym- 
pathetic emphasis,  get  recorded  in  subconsciousness 
and  not  the  wrong  forms  which  he  is  correcting.  The 


210         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

doctor  ought  to  picture  with  emotional  vigor  the  condi- 
tion in  which  he  wishes  his  patients,  in  beauty,  health, 
strength.  The  man  of  affairs  should  ever  have  vividly 
before  his  mind's  eye  his  ideal  human  character,  and 
his  ideal  of  business,  so  that  this  ideal  is  daily  the  most 
real  element  of  his  experience,  and  daily  fills  his  sub- 
consciousness  more  completely. 

When  you  have  to  think  of  yourself  as  sick  or  as  being 
in  danger  of  becoming  ill,  always  do  this  with  as  little 
emotion  as  possible.  Let  the  thought  stay  in  the 
superficial,  rational  part  of  your  mind.  Think  of  it 
as  you  would  a  problem  in  chess,  —  without  any  feel- 
ing. And  think,  in  any  manner,  as  little  as  possible  of 
sickness.  When  ill,  imagine  as  vividly  as  possible  the 
condition  you  wish  to  be  in.  Think  of  the  health 
which  you  should  have,  not  disease  which  you  actually 
but  accidentally  and  irrationally  have.  These  cheer- 
ful, optimistic,  health-inspiring  thoughts  and  feelings 
will  direct  the  subconscious  self  into  the  right  channel. 
You  will  thus  convince  the  subconscious  self  that  you 
have  a  right  to  be  well  and  that  you  have  the  power 
to  get  well,  yes,  that  it  is  a  sin  to  be  ill. 

The  Correct  Attitude  of  Mind.  —  Do  not  capitulate 
to  the  sordid.  This  is  a  brave,  grand  universe,  just  as 
near  paradise  as  we  think  it.  In  a  very  fundamental 
sense  we  make  our  own  world.  Almost  every  person 
lives  in  his  youth  for  a  while  in  Arcadia.  He  has  ideals. 
He  is  filled  with  noble  aspirations.  He  bubbles  over 
with  ambition.  Life  is  supremely  worth  while :  this 
is  his  daily  mood. 

This  is  the  correct  attitude  in  which  to  live.  This 
atmosphere  of  enthusiasm,  optimism,  ambition,  aspira- 


The  Subconscious  Life  211 

tion,  and  hope  should  constantly  surround  us.  This  is 
the  true  fountain  of  youth.  And  this  fountain  may  be 
made  perpetual.  One  of  the  saddest  heresies  of  life  is 
the  prevalent  belief  that  it  is  necessary,  nay,  desirable, 
to  lose  the  buoyancy  of  youth  soon  after  the  teens  are 
past,  or  at  least  when  the  thirties  are  over.  I  fear  that 
it  is  true  that  most  middle-aged  and  elderly  people 
plod  through  life.  They  just  do  —  their  —  duty  - 
every  —  day  without  joy,  without  sorrow,  without  look- 
ing forward  to  anything  better  than  a  little  rest  or  rec- 
reation now  and  then.  They  take  no  delight  in  their 
work.  In  the  morning  they  greet  the  new  day  with  a 
sigh  of  resignation,  and  they  welcome  the  end  of  the 
workday  with  another  sigh  of  relief.  They  are  down  at 
the  three-square-meals-a-day  and  daily-stint-of-work 
basis  of  life.  If  they  are  weak,  they  look  fagged; 
if  they  are  sensitive,  they  look  frazzled ;  if  blunt,  they 
look  apathetic  and  woodeny ;  if  strong,  they  look  prosy 
and  sordid. 

This  should  not  be  so !  This  is  the  wrong  attitude 
towards  life.  Its  cause  is  very  natural.  Life's  duties 
overwhelm  us.  We  become  weary  under  the  "  eternal 
grind."  From  sheer  inertia  we  slip  into  the  plodding 
attitude.  At  once  a  current  of  suggestion  sets  in  to  the 
subconscious :  "  The  world  is  mean,  sordid,  shabby, 
tiresome,  burdensome ;  let  us  plod  on  since  we  have  to." 
Soon  we  are  confirmed  in  this  attitude. 

Cultivate  an  optimistic  spirit.  Have  faith  in  your- 
self. Measured  one  way,  you  are  infinite,  divine.  As 
long  as  you  act  in  harmony  with  the  universe,  you  are 
invincible.  There  is  a  wealth  of  truth  in  Sam  W. 
Foss's  poem  where  he  lets  a  "  lunkhead  "  relate  how  he 


212         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

and  other  "  lunkheads "  grew  up  together  "  like 
cornstalks  in  the  same  hill,"  but  that  while  the 
relator  is  still  an  undistinguished  countryman,  some 
of  his  comrades  have  reached  the  highest  pinnacles 
of  success. 

"For  I  stayed  home  and  rassled  in  the  cornfiel'  like  a  chump, 
Coz  I  knew  I  was  a  lunkhead  and  a  lummox  and  a  gump; 
But  if  on'y  I  hadn't  known  it,  like  them  other  fellers  there, 
To-day  I  might  be  settin'  in  the  presidential  chair. 
We  all  are  lunkheads  —  don't  git  mad  —  an'  lummoxes  an* 

gawks ; 
But  us  poor  chaps  who  know  we  be  —  we  walk  in  humble 

walks. 
So  I  say  to  all  good  lunkheads,  Keep  your  own  selves  in  the 

dark; 
Don't  own  or  reckernize  the  fact,  an'  you  will  make  yer  mark." 

SUGGESTIVE  POWER  OF  THOUGHTS  AND   FEELINGS   OF 

OTHERS 

Expressed  Thoughts  and  Feelings.  —  The  expressed 
thoughts  and  feelings  of  others  act  as  suggestions  upon 
our  subconsciousness.  When  we  listen  to  speech,  we 
picture  in  our  minds  what  is  said.  Every  image  in  our 
consciousness  becomes  a  suggestion  to  the  subconscious. 
So  this  is  only  another  form  of  autosuggestion.  Phy- 
sicians and  nurses  experience  a  horrible  wear  and  tear 
from  constantly  witnessing  misery  and  pain.  In  self- 
defense,  the  mind  builds  up  a  sort  of  wall  or  protection 
against  these  constant  suggestions  of  pessimism.  People 
that  see  a  great  deal  of  misery  become,  as  we  say, 
hardened  to  it.  This,  however,  is  an  expensive  way  of 
defense,  for  this  is  the  same  process  of  "  sordidifying  " 
which  we  have  just  condemned. 


The  Subconscious  Life  213 

Unexpressed  Thoughts  and  Feelings.  —  Whether 
or  not  the  unexpressed  thoughts  and  feelings  of  other 
persons  influence  subconsciousness  is  at  present  a 
debatable  borderland  in  psychology.  There  is,  how- 
ever, a  mass  of  evidence  which  seems  to  lend  itself 
most  naturally  to  such  an  interpretation.  Most 
people  believe  that  by  looking  intently  at  the  back  of 
a  person  and  wishing  hard  that  he  may  turn  around 
we  may  get  him  to  do  so.  "  Absent  treatment  "  is 
given  by  various  schools  of  mental  healing,  and  there 
the  thoughts  and  volitions  of  a  person  not  in  the  pres- 
ence of  the  sick  person  are  supposed  to  effect  a  cure. 
Until  a  comparatively  recent  period  it  was  a  crime 
(treason)  in  England  "  to  imagine  the  death  of  the 
king."  To  be  sure,  this  had  to  be  something  more 
than  mere  imagining,  but  the  historical  essence  of  the 
crime  lay  in  the  belief  that  such  imagining  had  a  baleful 
influence  on  the  king's  health.  The  witch  of  old  used 
to  make  images  of  wax  of  the  persons  she  wished  to 
harm  and  then  maltreat  these  images  as  she  wished  the 
real  persons  to  be  treated.  As  the  image  wasted  away, 
the  person  represented  was  supposed  to  waste  away. 
Believers  in  the  occult  hold  that  every  person  has  a 
spiritual  "  atmosphere  "  about  himself,  and  that  all 
who  come  within  his  influence  are  more  or  less  affected 
by  it. 

If  there  be  such  an  extrasensual  exchange  of  influ- 
ence between  minds,  it  is  probable  that  proximity  in 
space  facilitates  its  transmission.  But  the  space  re- 
lation is  by  no  means  the  most  important.  Positive, 
aggressive,  self-contained  characters  are  in  less  danger 
of  being  disturbed  by  such  influence,  and  even  when 


214         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

they  seek  it,  they  will  probably  find  it  hard  to  get  a 
clear  conscious  experience.  But  the  subconscious  in- 
fluence is  still  there.  The  negative,  the  passive,  the 
hypersensitive,  the  neurotic^  the  plastic  minds  are 
more  likely  to  be  consciously  the  recipients  of  such 
influence.  This  does  not  mean,  however,  that  the 
ability  to  be  conscious  of  such  influence  must  neces- 
sarily mean  mental  disease  or  imperfection  of  char- 
acter. 

The  Spiritual  Atmosphere.  —  That  we  are  constantly 
in  spiritual  company  is  the  doctrine  of  all  religions. 
To  complement  this  theory  we  might  add  that  if  we 
believe  in  a  spirit  existence  at  all  as  distinct  from  the 
body,  we  cannot  suppose  the  mind  to  be  limited  by 
space.  There  is  a  communion  of  sinners  as  well  as  of 
saints,  even  while  in  the  body,  according  to  this  theory. 
All  lovers  and  mothers  believe  or  try  to  believe  that 
though  thousands  of  miles  away  from  their  beloved, 
still  they  are  with  them  in  spirit,  actually  influencing, 
comforting,  leading,  and  being  led  by  them.  Accord- 
ing to  this  faith,  which  we  all  try  to  hold  to  some  extent 
at  least  in  every  great  crisis  of  life,  we  are  always  in 
the  company  of  our  spiritual  relations.  Those  who 
are  dear  to  us  are  always  near  us  in  the  most  essential 
sense  in  the  world. 

This  doctrine  on  a  grand  scale  is  put  beautifully 
and  powerfully  by  Lowell  in  his  "  Present  Crisis  "  :  — 

When  a  deed  is  done  for  freedom,  through  the  broad  earth's 

acting  breast 

Runs  a  thrill  of  joy  prophetic,  trembling  on  from  east  to  west; 
And  the  slave,  where'er  he  cowers,  feels  the  soul  within  him 

climb 


The  Subconscious  Life  215 

To  the  awful  verge  of  manhood,  as  the  energy  sublime 

Of  a  century  bursts  full-blossomed  on  the  thorny  stem  of  time. 

Through  the  walls  of  hut  and  palace  shoots  the  instantaneous 

throe, 

When  the  travail  of  the  Ages  wrings  earth's  system  to  and  fro; 
At  the  birth  of  each  new  Era,  with  a  recognizing  start, 
Nation  wildly  looks  at  nation,  standing  with  mute  lips  apart, 
And  glad  Truth's  yet  mightier  man-child  leaps  beneath  the 

Future's  heart. 

So  the  Evil's  triumph  sendeth,  with  a  terror  and  a  chill, 
Under  continent  to  continent,  the  sense  of  coming  ill, 
And  the  slave  where'er  he  cowers,  feels  his  sympathies  with  God 
In  hot  tear  drops  ebbing  earthward,  to  be  drunk  up  by  the  sod, 
Till  a  corpse  crows  round  unburied,  delving  in  the  nobler  clod. 

For  mankind  are  one  in  spirit,  and  an  instinct  bears  along, 
Round  the  earth's  electric  circle,  the  swift  flash  of  right  or 

wrong ; 

Whether  conscious  or  unconscious,  yet    Humanity's  vast  frame 
Through  its    ocean-sundered   fibers   feels  the    gush    of    joy   or 

shame, — 
In  the  gain  or  loss  of  one  race  all  the  rest  have  equal  claim. 

This  doctrine  teaches  emphatically  that  soul  com- 
munes with  soul  even  without  and  beyond  the  use  of 
the  senses;  and  that  hence  the  importance  of  a  deed 
is  not  measured  by  its  effect  in  the  sense  world. 

This  theory  makes  the  complexion  of  our  secret 
thinking  and  brooding  literally  terribly  important. 
Our  thoughts,  moods,  and  imaginings,  if  base  and 
morbid,  will  sink  us  into  low  and  wicked  spiritual 
company,  and  from  this  company  we  shall  constantly 
receive  debasing  suggestions  which  will  fill  our  sub- 
consciousness  with  filth  and  wickedness.  But  if  we 
keep  our  souls  in  lofty  spiritual  regions,  if  we  dwell  in 


216         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

the  Upper  Room,  if  we  think,  feel,  imagine,  and  enjoy 
those  things  that  are  pure  and  wholesome,  our  souls 
shall  even  now  enjoy  heavenly  company,  and  from  this 
cloud  of  noble  spirit  companions  we  shall  constantly 
receive  suggestions  that  strengthen  us  against  tempta- 
tion, guide  us  in  doubt,  hearten  us  in  dismay,  and  give 
us  victory  in  our  battles.  Conversely,  an  unexpressed 
thought,  if  evil,  will  make  the  path  of  virtue  and  life 
harder  to  walk  for  every  human  being ;  while  if  good 
and  noble,  it  will  to  some  extent  elevate  the  whole 
human  race. 

SUMMARY 

Practical  Conclusions  about  Subconsciousness. — 
That  part  of  our  being  of  which  we  are  conscious  is 
only  a  very  small  part  of  us.  In  cases  of  sudden  refor- 
mation it  is  still  fearfully  possible  that  the  subcon- 
scious mind  is  pursuing  the  downward  road,  however 
respectable  the  conscious  life  may  be.  Every  act, 
every  thought,  every  emotion  adds  something  to  our 
subconscious  self,  and  thus  our  subconscious  life  rep- 
resents the  accumulated  momentum  of  our  past. 
Our  subconscious  life  gives  depth  and  body  to  our 
conscious  thoughts  and  emotions.  It  is,  therefore, 
impossible  for  one  who  has  lived  a  thoughtless  and 
frivolous  life  to  feel  very  deeply  or  think  very  power- 
fully on  any  subject  on  any  occasion,  even  when  he  is 
stirred  to  the  bottom  of  his  being.  He  is  shallow,  that's 
why.  To  him  who  secretly  dallies  with  filthy  thoughts 
it  becomes  impossible  to  keep  a  single  subject  in  his 
mental  possession  unsullied.  He  who  is  an  oppor- 
tunist in  the  trifles  of  daily  life,  who  is  insincere  habitu- 


The  Subconscious  Life  217 

ally  in  small  things,  will  find  that  he  has  no  fund  of 
moral  courage  to  draw  from  even  when  at  some  crisis 
in  his  life  he  earnestly  desires  to  play  the  man.  The 
yellow  streak  in  character  does  not  come  down  upon 
the  unfortunate  one,  like  the  potato  blight,  in  a  night. 
Silently  and  imperceptibly  flake  after  flake  of  the  yellow 
rust  fastened  itself  upon  the  soul  as  the  result  of  infin- 
itesimal cowardices,  petty  insincerities,  trifles  of  indul- 
gence, and  traces  of  selfishness.  In  short,  life  is  one 
and  inseparable.  It  has  a  fatal  integrity.  We  cannot 
serve  God  and  mammon. 

Our  subconscious  self  connects  with  the  whole  uni- 
verse of  being.  To  speak  in  theological  language,  we 
can  draw  upon  the  strength  and  power  of  God  through 
faith.  Deep  down  in  the  foundation  of  our  being  we 
are  one  with  the  great  Consciousness  of  the  world. 
That  is  why  we  have  an  exhaustless  spring  to  dip 
from,  and  that  is  why  "  all  things  are  possible  for  him 
that  believeth." 

The  Proper  Attitude  towards  Life.  —  Our  subcon- 
sciousness  is  the  bar  of  soft  iron,  surrounded  by  the 
induction  coil.  Our  conscious  life  is  the  current  of 
electricity  that  induces  (suggests)  magnetism  to  the 
bar  and  makes  it  capable  of  attracting  by  magnetic 
force.  Here  the  similarity  ceases,  for  while  there  is 
but  one  kind  of  electricity,  there  are  many  kinds  of  sug- 
gestion. The  nature  of  that  current  of  conscious  life 
lived,  so  to  speak,  on  the  outside  of  us  in  the  induction 
coil,  determines  the  nature  of  our  inner  subconscious 
life,  out  of  which  are  the  issues  of  life  as  to  health  of 
both  body  and  soul.  It  becomes,  then,  supremely 
important  that  we  have  the  right  attitude  toward  life, 


218         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

for  it  is  this  attitude  that  acts  as  a  suggestion  to  our 
subconsciousness. 

Our  attitude  should  be  that  of  optimism,  hope,  of  a 
triumphant,  forward-march  mood.  Our  imagination 
should  constantly  be  filled  with  bright,  happy,  har- 
monious images.  We  should  resolutely  shut  the  door 
to  fear,  distrust,  moody  brooding  on  what  might  have 
been,  as  well  as  all  morbid  thoughts  of  the  details  of 
crime  and  disaster  and  misery.  Anger,  hate,  and 
jealousy  should  be  resolutely  banished.  Every  sen- 
sible person  must  take  the  possibility  of  failure  into 
account  when  he  is  planning  any  course  of  action.  But 
when  once  our  course  of  action  is  determined  upon,  we 
should  never  dwell  further  upon  the  possibility  of 
failure.  No  ignoble,  impure,  or  sordid  thought  should 
ever  be  harbored. 

The  Physical  Attitude.  —  Our  mental  attitude  is  in- 
timately dependent  on  the  position  and  condition  of 
the  body.  We  should  therefore  keep  the  body  in  the 
position  which  expresses  the  thoughts  and  feelings 
recommended  above.  One  little  phrase  of  two  words 
gives  the  essence  of  all  that  belongs  to  a  correct  bodily 
carriage.  It  is:  Chest  up.  Unless  there  is  very  good 
reason  for  it,  it  is  impossible  to  feel  downhearted  and 
dejected  with  the  "  chest  up."  Brisk,  vigorous  move- 
ments and  lungs  well  filled  with  oxygen  are  also  im- 
portant. This  is  an  almost  perfect  and  complete  rule 
of  physical  carriage.  Express  as  vigorously  as  possible 
by  the  body,  its  action  and  carriage,  a  tonic,  virile, 
and  healthy  frame  of  mind. 

Pedagogical  Observations.  —  The  schoolroom  should 
be  permeated  by  a  brisk,  breezy,  tonic  mental  atmos- 


The  Subconscious  Life  219 

phere.  Teachers  and  pupils  should  find  joy  in  their 
work.  Nothing  morbid  or  depressing  should  be  found 
in  books  for  children.  In  teaching  physiology  and 
hygiene,  the  healthy  and  normal  conditions  and  func- 
tions of  the  body  should  be  dwelt  on,  not  the  abnormal 
and  diseased. 

In  Conclusion.  —  "  Finally,  brethren,  whatsoever 
things  are  true,  whatsoever  things  are  honest,  what- 
soever things  are  just,  whatsoever  things  are  pure, 
whatsoever  things  are  lovely,  whatsoever  things  are 
of  good  report;  if  there  be  any  virtue,  and  if  there 
be  any  praise,  THINK  ON  THESE  THINGS."  Phil,  iv :  8. 

Exercises 

z .  What  is  the  effect  on  subconsciousness  of  much  reading  of 
trashy  novels  ? 

2.  What  is  the  effect  of  constant  association,  as  in  an  asylum, 
with  the  insane  and  with  imbeciles? 

3.  What  is  the  value  of  starting  the  day  with  a  deeply  felt 
devotional  exercise? 

4.  What  should  you  think  of  just  before  you  fall  asleep? 

5.  What  effect  did  the  fine  specimens  of  the  arts  of  architec- 
ture and  sculpture  have  upon  the  children  who  grew  up  in  classi- 
cal Athens? 

6.  Draw  a  diagram  representing  the  relation  of  the  conscious 
mind  and  the  subconscious  mind. 

7.  Illustrate  by  some  character  from  history  the  unconscious 
tuition  of  war. 


(D).  Child   Study 

CHAPTER  XXIII 
CHILDHOOD 

VALUE  OF  CHILD  STUDY  TO  THE  TEACHER 

MAN  is  a  living  organism,  not  a  mechanism.  Mechan- 
isms are  built  from  without ;  organisms  grow  from 
within.  Therefore,  to  get  a  living  knowledge  of  an 
organism,  one  must  know  its  history.  We  do  not  know 
the  oak  until  we  know  how  it  develops  from  the  acorn. 
We  do  not  understand  a  nation  until  we  are  acquainted 
with  its  history.  For  the  same  reason,  if  we  are  to 
understand  the  mind,  human  nature,  we  must  study 
its  growth.  Since  man  is  a  living  organism,  a  study 
of  the  history  of  the  individual's  development  is 
essential  to  a  true  perspective  of  psychology. 

Child  Study. — The  study  of  the  evolution  of  the  human 
individual  is,  therefore,  the  necessary  foundation  of  all 
valid  pedagogy.  But  of  all  the  voluminous  writings 
of  educators  and  investigators  on  this  subject,  what  is 
of  value  for  our  purpose  can  be  summarized  in  a  few 
pages.  In  the  two  following  chapters,  we  shall  try  to 
place  before  the  reader  as  tersely  and  succinctly  as 
possible  a  few  of  the  results  of  child  study  which  are 
most  applicable  to  this  discussion. 

220 


Childhood  221 

THE  PERIODS  IN  THE  EVOLUTION  OF  THE  MIND 

There  are  four  well-marked  periods  in  the  evolution 
of  the  human  individual :  childhood,  early  adolescence, 
youth,  and  maturity. 

Of  these  the  first  is  the  subject  of  this  chapter. 
This  may  be  subdivided  into  two  periods. 

THE  TWO  AGES  OF  CHILDHOOD 

About  the  age  of  eight  or  nine,  when  children  cut 
their  permanent  teeth,  there  is  a  time  of  rather  rapid 
change  which  separates  childhood  quite  definitely  into 
two  divisions,  which  we  may  call  early  and  later  child- 
hood. 

In  early  childhood  perhaps  the  most  striking  char- 
acteristic of  children  is  then*  timidity,  and  well  it  is 
that  nature  has  thus  guarded  them;  for  they  are 
surrounded  by  danger  on  all  sides,  with  which  their 
weakness  and  ignorance  is  far  from  able  to  cope.  A 
prominent  intellectual  peculiarity  of  this  period  is  the 
frequent  inability  to  distinguish  reality  from  imagina- 
tion. Very  often  the  reputation  of  children  for  fibbing 
is  entirely  undeserved.  They  are  simply  unable  to 
distinguish  the  products  of  their  imagination  from  the 
percepts  of  the  senses.  Thus  many  children  have 
imaginary  playmates  to  whom  they  get  as  attached  as 
to  real  flesh-and-blood  comrades. 

In  later  childhood  these  characteristics  are  lost,  and 
the  love  for  adventure  and  braggadocio  becomes  very 
apparent  in  boys,  a  characteristic  which  has  caused 
this  period  to  be  called  the  "  Big  Injun "  period. 
With  girls  the  homing  and  maternal  instincts  begin  to 


222         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

be  manifest  at  this  tune.  The  period  from  about  ten 
to  fourteen  years  is  a  period  of  slow  growth.  As  little 
energy  is  spent  in  growing,  the  child  can  spend  all  his 
vitality  for  "  current  expenses."  Hence  he  is  now 
capable  of  doing  hard  work  without  injury.  This  is 
the  drill  period  in  education.  Now  let  him  get  the 
main  part  of  the  mechanical  element  in  school  work. 

THE  CHILD  NOT  A  MINIATURE  OF  THE  ADULT 

Primers  used  to  contain  material  of  interest  to 
grown  people,  put  into  simple  language.  If  poly- 
syllables were  avoided,  it  was  thought  that  children 
certainly  would  thrive  on  an  exposition  of  the  English 
constitution,  the  theory  of  the  atonement,  or  manners 
at  the  table.  But  child  study  has  taught  us  that  the 
child  has  a  mental  life  altogether  his  own.  If  we  wish 
to  influence  it,  we  must  first  know  it. 

Child  World  the  World  of  the  Senses.  —  The  world 
as  it  exists  to  the  child  is  largely  the  concrete,  tangible 
world  of  the  senses.  One  step  beyond  the  senses  is  all 
the  wise  teacher  of  children  will  venture.  Objects, 
models,  pictures,  vivid  descriptions  —  stop  there.  If 
you  venture  farther  away  from  the  actual,  you  will 
leave  your  juvenile  charge  behind. 

HOW  CHILDREN  THINK 

Our  past  experience  is  our  thinking  tool.  Just  as  a 
gardener  digs  with  a  spade,  so  the  thinker  thinks  with 
his  past  knowledge. 

The  Child's  Small  Store  of  Associations.  —  Children 
have  not  experienced  much,  and  hence  have  only  a  very 
small  store  of  knowledge  to  draw  upon.  For  this 


Childhood  223 

reason,  their  thoughts  differ  from  those  of  the  adult. 
For  example,  you  and  a  child  of  six  meet  a  funeral 
procession.  As  soon  as  the  scene  stimulates  your 
senses,  up  spring  your  very  complex  and  powerful  asso- 
ciations relating  to  funerals  and  take  charge  of  your 
mind.  Some  personal  bereavement  perchance  presents 
itself;  pictures  and  emotions  you  have  acquired  by 
reading  of  death  and  the  grave  awake  within  you. 
Your  theories  concerning  death  and  the  life  beyond 
come  back  to  you.  Religious  sentiments  and  thoughts 
give  color  and  tone  to  the  whole. 

And  the  child?  Why,  bless  his  heart,  that  funny 
black  carriage  with  plumes  and  glass  sides,  in  the 
midst  of  such  a  line  of  vehicles,  reminds  him  of  the 
aquarium  in  last  summer's  circus  parade. 

Hence,  before  the  teacher  can  teach  his  class  to  do 
better  thinking,  he  must  know  how  they  think  now, 
and  before  he  can  know  how  they  think  now,  he  must 
know  the  children's  minds. 

The  Three  Kinds  of  Thinking.  —  To  understand 
how  children  think  we  must  begin  quite  a  distance 
back. 

The  diagram  on  page  224  is  a  representation  of  the  in- 
tellectual universe.  At  the  materialistic  end,  or  rather, 
bottom,  we  have  facts — events,  objects,  things.  These 
are  combined,  subsumed,  under  laws  or  principles  that 
express  their  essence,  then*  meaning.  These  laws  again 
are  united  under  higher,  more  universal  principles, 
until,  as  we  believe,  the  lines  of  the  whole  universe 
converge  to  one  point.  Now,  thinking  consists  in 
climbing  these  intellectual  ladders ;  either  up  from 
fact  to  law,  or  down  from  law  to  fact. 


224         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

The  Universal 


Law  or/pTPrinciple      LaworAPrinciple         LaworXPrinciple 


FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF 


But  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  this  "  climbing  " 
is  a  complex  performance  in  which  both  the  habits  of 
ancestry  and  the  spontaneous  creative  elements  sup- 
plied by  the  individual  "  climber  "  are  ever  present. 

There  are  two  ways  of  thinking,  explicitly  and  im- 
plicitly. Examples  of  these  two  methods  are  given 
below.  Which  is  your  way? 

(a)  "  I  have  eaten  several  Bartlett  pears.  They  are 
all  excellent.  Hence  I  infer  the  law  :  All  Bartlett 
pears  are  excellent.  This  is  a  Bartlett  pear.  It  must 
be  excellent." 

(6)  "I  have  eaten  several  Bartlett  pears,  and  liked 
them.  Hence,  this  being  a  Bartlett  pear,  I  guess  it 
must  be  good." 

For  cases  like  the  above,  I  use  the  second  way  every 
time.  It  is  shorter,  and  it  is  satisfactory.  It  differs 
from  the  first  in  apparently  leaving  out  all  reference  to 
a  law  and  in  jumping  directly  from  one  fact  to  another. 
In  reality,  however,  we  do  have  a  glimmer  of  the  law, 
even  in  the  second  process.  But  the  reference  is  im- 
plicit. We  do  think  of  the  law,  but  we  do  not  con- 
sciously abstract  it  from  the  facts  in  which  we  see  it 
exemplified. 

Most  of  our  thinking  is  of  this  class.    In  our  daily 


Childhood  225 

life  our  mind  skips  nimbly  from  fact  to  fact,  and  passes 
through  the  intervening  law  without  alighting  on  it. 
In  practical  thinking,  the  mind's  eye  is  riveted  on 
things,  facts,  and  has  not  time  to  focus  itself  on  the 
principles  that  it  employs. 

The  next  higher  grade  of  thinking  is  scientific  think- 
ing. When  the  botanist  classifies  plants ;  when  the  stu- 
dent of  plant  ecology  sees  and  formulates  the  relation 
that  exists  between  insects  and  flowers,  or  between  hu- 
midity and  f oliage  surface ;  when  the  student  of  political 
economy  discovers  the  essence  of  free  government  or  the 
economist  speaks  of  the  principle  of  free  competition : 
then  these  thinkers  have  laws  and  principles  explicitly 
in  their  minds.  This  may  be  called  scientific  thinking, 
or  explicit  reasoning. 

There  is  a  still  higher  phase  of  thinking.  When  the 
mind  seeks  fundamental  truth,  the  great  unifying  prin- 
ciples that  explain  all  laws,  it  Is  engaged  in  philosophic 
thought.  Very  few  people  are  capable  of  this  kind  of 
thinking. 

We  have,  then,  three  kinds  of  thinking :  — 

(a)  Common  thinking,  which  consists  in  reasoning 
from  fact  to  fact  without  formulating  the  principle  or 
law  upon  which  the  reasoning  depends. 

(6)  Scientific  thinking,  hi  which  laws,  principles, 
and  relations  are  thought  out  explicitly. 

(c)  Philosophic  thinking,  in  which  the  mind  seeks 
fundamental,  unifying  principles. 

Children's  Thinking  Unscientific.  —  Normally,  chil- 
dren do  not  think  out  laws,  principles,  and  relations 
explicitly.  Ideas  and  images  never  tarry  long  before 
the  child's  mental  vision.  There  is  a  change  of  scene  on 


226         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

the  stage  of  thought  every  few  seconds.  Naturally 
they  use  exclusively  the  first  kind  of  thinking.  Formal 
abstractions,  generalizations,  and  deductions  are  anti- 
natural  to  the  child.  Definitions  committed  to  memory 
are  to  him  not  definitions  at  all;  they  are  but  husks, 
shells,  and  are  correspondingly  unpalatable  and  indi- 
gestible. 

Hence  formal  grammar  and  the  science  of  arithmetic 
have  no  place  in  the  first  six  or  seven  grades  of  our 
schools.  This  will  be  more  thoroughly  discussed  later. 
We  shall  now  restrict  ourselves  to  the  answering  of  a 
few  current  objections. 

The  first  objectors  are  the  preternaturally  bright 
teachers.  "Why,"  these  object,  "  I  can  make  children 
comprehend  the  reason  for  every  rule  in  arithmetic, 
and  I  know  they  are  interested  and  like  it." 

I  would  answer :  So  they  do  —  for  the  moment. 
Why?  Because,  with  your  marvelous  social  powers, 
you  have  hypnotized  the  children  into  doing  what  is 
not  healthful  or  natural  for  them  to  do.  Still,  they 
seldom  like  the  subject,  even  then.  They  like  you  and 
your  bright,  breezy  ways,  not  the  subject.  Then,  notice 
how  quickly  they  lose  what  they  get  in  your  training  ! 
Healthy  children  have  a  happy  faculty  for  shedding 
abnormal  accomplishments. 

Next  comes  the  young  trained  thinker.  "  But,  sir," 
he  objects,  "  is  not  all  education  artificial  ?  We  want 
the  child  to  develop  more  completely  and  faster  than 
he  would  naturally  if  left  without  schooling."  True, 
but  this  artificial  stimulation  should  not  be  antinatural. 
And  so,  to  require  children  to  do  scientific  thinking, 
to  learn  definitions,  to  use  and  state  universal  prin- 


Childhood  227 

ciples,  to  have  laws  and  relations  explicitly  in  mind 
when  reasoning,  is  at  best  a  waste  of  time  and  energy 
on  the  part  of  both  teacher  and  pupil,  and  is  often  a 
source  of  serious  injury  to  the  growing  mind. 

THE  CHILD'S  IMPULSIVE  AND  EMOTIONAL  LIFE 

Child  swayed  by  Present  Impulse.  —  Holmes  some- 
where says  sarcastically  that  the  Indian  of  the  novel  is 
"merely  a  bundle  of  instincts  on  legs."  This  is  the 
literal  truth  when  said  of  children.  Throughout 
childhood  the  impulse  of  the  moment  is  by  far  the 
greatest  factor  in  determining  action.  Ignorance  of  this 
truth  is  responsible  for  much  injustice.  In  nine  cases 
out  of  ten,  your  bad  boy  never  planned  his  wicked 
prank  at  all.  The  opportunity  offered  itself;  the 
impulse  seized  him ;  it  was  done :  there  is  the  whole 
story.  Of  course,  plans  and  deliberations  become  more 
frequent  and  more  extended  as  the  child  grows  older; 
the  boy  of  twelve  years  schemes  more  than  the  child 
of  two ;  but  still,  characters  like  Peck's  "Bad  Boy  " 
are  a  libel  on  childhood.  Real  boys  are  not  so  long- 
headed. Equally  impossible  is  the  creation  of  the 
imagination  that  did  duty  as  the  Good  Little  Boy  of 
the  Sunday-school  book.  Observe,  I  do  not  assert 
that  the  wickedness  or  holiness  per  se  of  these  characters 
is  impossible  in  children,  but  I  do  claim  that  the 
grown-up  premeditation  and  speculation  attributed 
to  these  characters  is  impossible  in  normal  childhood. 
At  the  bottom  of  all  true  understanding  of  childhood 
there  must  be  a  recognition  of  the  simple,  unpre- 
meditated, spontaneous  nature  of  the  child's  mental 
life. 


228         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Futility  of  Threats  or  Promises  of  Reward.  —  Since  to 
the  child  there  is  but  a  rudimentary  past  and  practically 
no  future,  the  memory  of  past  suffering  and  the  hope  of 
future  reward  are  equally  powerless  in  the  presence  of  a 
strong  present  temptation. 

The  teacher  or  parent  who  expatiates  in  the  summer 
on  the  coming  glory  of  the  Christmas  tree  wonders 
why  his  young  hearers  are  not  enthusiastic.  To  him, 
Christmas  six  months  hence  is  as  real  as  the  present 
Fourth  of  July.  Not  so  to  the  child.  Things  six 
months  in  the  future  have  to  him  only  a  very  shadowy 
existence,  if  any  at  all.  We  have  all  had  the  "  Be- 
a  -  good  -  boy-and-  you-may-one-day-become-  president ' ' 
maxim  repeated  to  us  in  our  juvenile  days.  Did  it,  as 
was  intended,  inspire  us  to  untiring  energy  and  de- 
votion to  work?  Scarcely.  The  next  cool  swimming- 
hole  had  a  million  times  more  persuasion  in  it ;  and  in 
just  about  a  second  and  a  half  it  had  washed  away 
every  vestige  of  presidential  ambition.  Early  one 
spring,  while  frost  was  still  in  the  ground,  I  found  a 
number  of  boys  wading  in  a  marsh.  I  asked  the  boys  if 
then*  mothers  allowed  such  trifling  with  health.  One 
boy  told  me  that  he  "  expected  he  would  get  a  whipping 
when  he  came  home."  But  coming  home  was  still  a 
long  way  into  the  future;  and  wading  was  such  fun. 
No  normal  child  was  very  long  kept  from  doing  what  he 
really  wanted  to  do  by  the  most  dire  threats  of  "  lick- 
ing," "  thrashing,"  or  "  skinning."  Promises  of  reward 
are  equally  futile,  if  they  are  not  to  be  fulfilled  in  the 
immediate  future. 

It  follows  that  punishments,  too,  are  less  effective 
with  children  than  with  adults  as  deterrents  from 


Childhood  229 

crime.  However,  the  actual  infliction  of  punishment  is 
much  more  effective  than  the  most  vivid  description  of 
reward  or  punishment  to  come. 

It  follows  that  the  government  of  children  should 
consist  chiefly  in  so  arranging  their  environment  that 
they  are  stimulated  and  tempted  to  do  right,  while 
they  are  restrained  from  doing  wrong  mainly  by  having 
temptations  removed  and  by  having  their  lives  filled 
to  the  brim  with  activity  in  useful  or  at  least  harmless 
directions.  As  long  as  teachers  and  environments  are 
imperfect,  however,  punishments  will  probably  be 
more  or  less  necessary.  But  threats  and  promises  of 
reward  far  in  the  future  are  nearly  always  ineffective. 

Children  not  Sentimental.  —  We  older  people  like  to 
feel  miserable  at  times.  We  like  to  moisten  the  eyes 
with  a  pathetic  story.  Children  do  not.  When 
moved  by  pity  or  compassion,  they  are  pained,  and 
they  do  not  like  being  pained. 

Normal  children  seldom  expatiate  on  their  feelings 
and  emotions,  even  when  these  are  pleasant.  This 
can  easily  be  deduced  from  the  foregoing,  but  we  reach 
the  same  conclusion  from  direct  observation  of  children. 
If  not  taught  to  do  so,  they  seldom  speak  of  kind 
mamma,  dear  sister,  the  beauties  of  sunset,  or  the 
pleasures  of  friendship.  Their  minds  are  riveted  on 
the  facts,  and,  though  they  enjoy  the  by-play  of 
emotions,  they  think  of  them  only  implicitly. 

CHILDREN'S  INTERESTS  AND  HOW  TO  APPEAL  TO  THEM 

Predominance  of  the  Motor  Element.  —  Nothing  is 
likely  to  interest  children  long  unless  it  contains  a 
strong  motor  element.  We  are  all  motor-minded ;  that 


230         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

is,  motor  images  are  a  very  important  part  of  the  mental 
images  of  every  one ;  but  in  children  the  motor  element 
seems  to  predominate.  "  Still  life  "  does  not  interest 
them.  The  successful  teacher  will  find  something  for 
his  pupil  to  do  with  hands  and  feet,  and  not  merely 
something  to  listen  to,  or  contemplate.  Closely  con- 
nected with  this  characteristic  is  the  dramatic  instinct. 
Strength  of  the  Dramatic  Instinct  in  Children.  —  The 
dramatic  idea  —  make-believe  —  is  a  very  complex 
idea.  Still,  even  brute  creation  is  in  possession  of 
it.  Two  kittens  engage  in  a  mock  fight.  Oh,  how 
they  chew  each  other  up,  —  apparently,  —  but  they  are 
very  careful  that  teeth  and  claws  do  not  penetrate 
the  skin.  It  certainly  appears  as  if  they  understand 
and  enjoy  to  make-believe  that  they  are  and  do  what 
they  are  not  and  do  not.  Children  at  a  very  early  age 
show  that  they  have  mastered  this  very  complex  idea 
of  make-believe.  Many  of  their  most  beloved  games 
consist  in  playing  that  they  are  "  grown  ups  " ;  they 
play  school,  and  church,  and  "  company."  Many  a 
fond  parent  has  elaborately  kept  up  the  fiction  of  a 
Santa  Glaus  and  innocently  thought  the  child  "  be- 
lieved "  in  "  Santy,"  when  as  a  matter  of  fact  the  child 
was  fully  aware  of  the  mythical  character  of  the  Christ- 
mas saint,  but  was  so  perfect  an  actor  that  he  deceived 
even  his  parents.  It  is  entirely  unnecessary  for  parents 
and  teachers  to  tell  myths  and  fairy  tales  to  children 
as  truth,  for  children  will  enjoy  these  stories  fully  as 
much  if  they  know  they  are  fiction.  To  the  adult, 
truth  is  more  interesting  than  fiction,  but  to  the  child 
the  zest  of  make-believe  is  so  rich  that  it  fully  counter- 
balances the  lack  of  reality. 


Childhood  231 

A  small  boy  about  four  years  of  age  very  much 
enjoyed  "  surprises "  at  the  table.  Some  delicacy, 
supposedly  unknown  to  the  rest,  was  covered  with  a 
napkin  and  when  the  family  was  assembled  at  the 
table,  he  removed  the  napkin.  Then  all  were  supposed 
to  clap  their  hands  in  joy  and  surprise.  For  a  long  time 
they  had  oranges  pretty  regularly  for  breakfast,  but 
although  he  knew  all  were  aware  that  there  were 
oranges  under  the  napkin,  he  would  cry  "  surprise  " 
and  dramatically  snatch  the  napkin  away.  "  You 
must  clap  your  hands,"  he  admonished  any  one  who 
failed  to  play  surprised.  At  another  time  he  came  in 
with  a  cane  in  his  hand.  His  mother  said,  "  Oh, 
Howard,  where  did  you  get  that  cane?  "  This  struck 
him  as  an  uncommonly  good  play,  so  he  said,  "  Now 
I'll  go  out  again,  and  when  I  come  back,  you  must  clap 
your  hands,  and  say :  '  Oh,  Howard,  where  did  you  get 
that  cane?'" 

Children's  Fondness  for  Repetition.  —  Children  like 
repetition  much  more  than  do  their  elders.  In  the 
case  just  given  Howard  repeated  his  appearances  and 
demands  for  his  mother's  recognition  and  repetition 
of  the  formula,  "  Why,  Howard,  where  did  you  get  that 
cane?"  until  his  mother  was  thoroughly  tired  of  it. 
When  a  story  is  told  to  a  child,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten, 
he  will  say,  "  Tell  it  again  " ;  and  he  will  repeat  this 
request  for  the  same  story  until  his  narrator  is  ex- 
hausted. Dramatic  plays,  like  London  Bridge,  will 
be  repeated  again  and  again  and  again  for  whole  hours, 
without  "  change  of  bill."  This  is  a  very  convenient 
characteristic  in  children  for  the  teachers,  for  it  makes 
drill  work  far  less  tedious  to  the  pupils.  It  shows  also 


232         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

the  wisdom  of  constant  repetition  of  a  few  cardinal 
ideas,  expressions,  and  principles.  This  is  not  drudgery 
to  the  child.  This  dynamic  interest  of  the  child  should 
be  utilized  in  teaching.  Drill  on  the  multiplication  table 
may  be  made  a  pastime. 

Imitativeness.  —  Imitation  is  a  very  prominent  im- 
pulse in  children,  even  more  than  with  their  elders. 
This  is  both  conscious  and  unconscious.  The  child 
must  have  a  pencil  of  just  the  same  color  as  his  brother's 
and  must  whistle  when  he  whistles,  but  he  will  also 
unconsciously  imitate  the  grimaces  and  limp  of  a  com- 
rade. From  this  it  is  evident  how  sensitive  a  child's 
soul  is  to  its  environment.  Butter  takes  a  taint  from 
the  odors  in  the  refrigerator  no  quicker  than  do  children's 
minds  from  any  taint  in  the  spiritual  atmosphere.  This 
is  closely  connected  with  the  mystic  power  of  suggestion. 

Suggestion  has  a  terrific  force  with  children.  This  is 
why  it  is  usually  so  futile  to  forbid  a  child  to  do  any- 
thing without  at  the  same  time  removing  the  immediate 
temptation.  "  Don't  lick  the  iron  fence  to-day,  Bobby. 
It  is  so  cold  your  tongue  would  freeze  fast,"  said  mother, 
as  Bobby  stood  with  his  mouth  half  an  inch  from  the 
the  fence.  The  next  minute  Bobby  was  screaming  with 
a  half  of  a  square  inch  of  tongue  adhering  to  the  iron. 

THE  ETHICS  OF    CHILDHOOD  AND  OF  ANTIQUITY 

Primitive  Morality  of  Children.  —  The  moral  aspect 
of  the  child's  evolution  depends,  of  course,  wholly  upon 
the  development  of  the  ideal.  The  moral  standards 
held  by  children  are  not  unlike  those  of  primitive 
society.  The  study  of  children  reveals  that  few  chil- 
dren before  ten  years  of  age  have  admiration,  worthy 


Childhood  233 

of  the  name,  for  honor,  truthfulness,  courage,  and  mercy. 
Be  not  misled  by  the  fact  that  the  child  will  try  to 
make  his  conscience  correspond  to  Sunday-school 
models.  He  may  even  have  quite  clear  intellectual 
conceptions  of  the  moral  law,  and  be  ready  and  able  to 
apply  it  to  any  given  case.  This  morality  is,  however, 
wholly  an  exotic. 

Strength  and  Cunning.  —  Boys  brag  of  how  many 
other  "fellows"  they  can  "lick"  with  impunity,  not 
of  the  odds  they  dare  to  take  in  a  fight.  They  are  very 
indignant  at  a  "  cheat,"  but  usually  only  when  their 
side  gets  cheated.  Boys  boast  of  their  muscular 
strength  or  mental  cunning,  not  of  bravery.  "  I'm  not 
afraid  of  going  into  the  river,  because  I  can  swim,"  is 
an  example.  The  fact  that  Siegfried  was  invulnerable 
reduces  the  grown  man's  admiration  for  the  hero,  for 
what  valor  does  the  warrior  show  who  knows  that  he 
cannot  be  wounded?  But  to  the  child  Siegfried  with 
the  charmed  "  coat  "  was  a  greater  man  than  Siegfried 
without  it.  There  is  a  peculiar  tendency  to  join  the 
stronger  side.  In  schools  where  no  pupils  over  fourteen 
years  of  age  are  found,  and  where  the  teacher  makes  no 
conscious  effort  in  that  direction,  there  is  seldom  a 
"  code  of  honor  " ;  pupils  feel  entirely  free  to  "  tattle  " 
to  the  teacher.  They  do  not  consider  it  unmanly  to 
cry  at  the  least  provocation.  Nor  do  they  recognize 
mercy  as  a  virtue  worth  the  having.  The  vikings  of 
the  North  or  Izdubar's  heroes  in  Chaldea  were  simply 
overgrown  boys,  and  the  boy  of  to-day  exhibits  the 
same  cruelty,  or  rather  indifference  to  the  sufferings  of 
others,  in  his  exultant  pursuit  of  some  terrified  squirrel. 
Strength  and  cunning  were  and  are  —  in  the  case  of  chil- 


234         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

dren  —  almost  the  only  virtues  recognized,  with  one 
possible  exception.  Boys  do  hate  a  thief. 

Honesty.  —  Historically  the  law  of  property  was  the 
first  moral  law  evolved,  and  for  good  reasons.  The 
institution  of  property  (industrial  society)  was,  together 
with  the  family,  the  first  institution  evolved.  The  first 
truly  human  relation  after  those  of  the  family  that 
becomes  explicit  in  man  is  the  relation  of  owner  to 
property.  With  the  masses  "  thief  "  and  "  convict "  are 
often  synonymous  terms.  Even  in  the  writings  of 
Hume  we  find  that  "  justice  "  means  right  in  property 
relations  only.  "  Honesty  "  to  this  day  simply  means 
absence  of  thievish  proclivities. 

Loyalty.  —  We  find,  also,  in  children  and  barbarians 
the  rudiments  of  the  virtue  of  loyalty.  Children  think, 
at  least  under  favorable  circumstances,  that  it  is 
mean  to  desert  their  recognized  leader.  Instinctively 
they  are  loyal  to  their  parents,  but  even  here  a  gleam 
of  explicit  opinion  that  one  ought  to  stand  by  one's 
father  and  mother  at  all  times  may  sometimes  be  dis- 
coverable. 

Piety  is  an  early  virtue.  The  barbarian  and  the 
child  find  it  easy  to  believe  in  a  supreme  Master  and 
Father  and  to  recognize  their  duty  of  obedience. 

Thus  honesty,  loyalty,  and  piety  put  in  their  appear- 
ance, rising,  as  it  seems,  from  the  realm  of  instinct.  The 
child  recognizes  the  personalities  of  master  and  God 
much  earlier  and  more  clearly  than  those  of  himself 
and  his  playmates.  Thus,  paradoxical  as  it  may  seem, 
it  is  nevertheless  true  that  the  child  can  earlier  com- 
prehend by  an  act  of  "  moral  judgment  "  the  duties  of 
worship,  of  obedience  to  God,  and  of  submission  and 


Childhood  235 

service  to  a  person  in  authority  than  the  duties  of 
charity  of  neighbor  to  neighbor  or  of  the  respect  that 
the  individual  owes  to  himself.  The  great  fault  of 
nine  tenths  of  our  attempted  moral  instruction  is  that 
it  ignores  this  order  of  evolution  of  self-consciousness 
and  proceeds  on  the  notion  that,  of  course,  the  child  has 
the  clearest  notion  of  his  own  personality. 

Hence,  "  virtues  "  recognized  by  the  child  and  by 
primitive  man  are :  physical  strength ;  cunning ;  and 
the  rudiments  of  honesty,  loyalty,  and  piety. 

Tabu  Morality.  —  On  such  a  system  of  morality  as 
that  described,  only  savagery  can  exist.  But  we  do 
not  want  our  children  to  be  unqualified  savages.  In 
spite  of  the  fact  that  it  is  natural,  we  do  not  desire 
scalping  and  cannibalism  in  the  nursery.  In  its  slow 
upward  strivings,  the  race  has  also  found  that  this 
primitive  morality  does  not  suffice.  Hence  an  artifi- 
cial complement  has  been  added  to  it  very  early  in  the 
evolution  of  society.  This  may  be  conveniently  called 
tabu  morality. 

Thus  every  tribe  that  has  ever  amounted  to  anything 
has  put  certain  restrictions  on  man  which  are  wholly 
without  reason  as  far  as  the  individual  who  obeys  them 
is  concerned.  In  general,  among  primitive  peoples  to 
kill  a  stranger  is  allowable,  even  laudable ;  but  if  the 
stranger  is  under  one's  roof  and  has  partaken  of  one's 
salt,  his  life  is  sacred.  Per  se,  to  lie  shows  one's  acute- 
ness,  and  even  the  gods  of  the  mythologies  lied ;  but 
it  must  not,  in  India,  be  done  under  a  particular  species 
of  tree.  The  malefactor  is  safe  in  the  temple,  however 
black  his  crime ;  to  hurt  him  there  would  be  sacrilege. 

Thus  antique  society  imposed  many  obligations  upon 


236         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

the  individual,  which,  so  far  as  the  individual  was  con- 
cerned, were  obeyed  without  the  slightest  notion  why 
this  was  right  and  that  was  wrong,  and  in  all  but  an 
infinitesimal  fraction  of  the  whole  number  of  instances, 
without  the  least  attempt  or  desire  on  the  part  of  the 
individual  to  know  any  reason  why. 

Such  tabu  morality  must  be  established  for  the  child 
by  teacher  and  parents.  It  is  a  great  mistake  to  at- 
tempt to  make  explicit  every  moral  reason  why  to  the 
child.  It  cannot  be  done.  Instead  of  wearying  him 
by  moral  disquisitions  on  truth,  kindness,  justice,  and 
mercy,  just  tell  him  that  he  must  not  do  this,  that,  or 
the  other  false,  cruel,  or  unjust  deed.  The  child,  if  he 
trusts  you,  will  construe  himself  the  most  gruesome 
notion  of  the  badness  of  the  forbidden  thing,  and  will 
hate  and  detest  it  with  all  his  heart.  Thus  the  average 
child  has  no  rational  basis  whatever  for  holding  that 
a  lie  is  wicked;  he  cannot  have.  In  fact,  many  an 
adult  cannot  get  it  by  reasoning.  But  if  his  trusted 
grown-up  friends  tell  him  that  lying  is  despicable,  he 
will  believe  them  implicitly,  and  will  come  to  feel  in 
his  very  bones  that  lying  is  contemptible. 

The  true  order  in  morals  as  well  as  in  every  other 
art  is  first  do  and  then  know. 

SUMMARY 

In  early  childhood  the  nervous  and  muscular  systems 
are  too  immature  to  make  training  in  accuracy  and  com- 
plexity of  motor  and  sense  operations  profitable  or  even 
safe.  The  age  of  later  childhood  is  the  age  for  drill  and 
memory  work. 

Children  live  in  the  present.    Their  associations  are 


Childhood  237 

narrow  and  limited,  and,  normally,  they  do  not  formulate 
any  general  principles  in  their  thinking.  They  think 
rapidly  but  not  scientifically ;  and  therefore  all  abstract 
reasoning  more  than  one  step  removed  from  the  con- 
crete has  10  place  in  elementary  schools.  Children 
have  only  rudimentary  notions  of  a  past  and  a  future, 
but  are  mainly  guided  by  the  present  impulse.  Hence, 
threats  are  wasted  on  children.  Rewards,  if  in  the 
distant  future,  are  equally  powerless.  Children  are 
unemotional  and  unsentimental.  They  are  full  of  the 
motor  and  dramatic  instincts,  understand  and  enjoy 
fiction,  like  repetition,  and  are  governed  by  imitation 
and  suggestion  much  more  than  are  their  elders. 

The  ethics  of  childhood  is  very  much  like  that  of 
primitive  man,  and  an  adaptation  of  the  ancient  tabu 
morality  is  the  most  effective  method  of  developing,  for 
the  child,  a  standard  of  right  and  wrong. 


CHAPTER  XXIV 
EARLY    ADOLESCENCE    AND    YOUTH 

EARLY  adolescence  is  the  name  given  to  the  period  of 
change  from  childhood  to  manhood  or  womanhood. 
Its  determining  physiological  event  is  the  development 
into  full  functioning  of  the  sexual  organs;  but  this  is 
by  no  means  all.  Every  nook  and  corner  of  the  whole 
being,  mental  and  physical,  is  affected.  It  is  a  verita- 
ble rebirth. 

From  birth  to  adolescence  the  rate  of  growth  is 
constantly  decreasing.  In  fact,  often  for  two  or  three 
years  just  before  adolescence,  growth  almost  entirely 
ceases.  Even  the  most  superficial  observer  must  have 
noticed  how  of  a  sudden  the  child  who  has  almost 
ceased  developing  starts  growing  again,  and  changes 
more  in  a  month  than  before  in  a  year.  This  is  the  out- 
ward mark  of  adolescence. 

GENERAL  CHARACTERISTICS  OF  EARLY  ADOLESCENCE 

Before  discussing  the  characteristics  of  adolescence, 
let  me  premise  this  warning.  The  adolescent  is  very 
variable;  no  single  statement  can  be  made  which  is 
true  of  all  adolescents.  I  have  seen  many  cases  in 
which  the  adolescent  did  not  manifest  a  single  char- 
acteristic mentioned  below.  In  fact  every  adolescent 
must  be  studied  individually  to  get  useful  results. 

238 


Early  Adolescence  and  Youth  239 

What  is  given  below  is,  however,  in  the  great  majority 
of  cases  true. 

The  Adolescent's  Lack  of  Energy.  —  The  adolescent 
is  lazy,  or  has  at  least  the  reputation  for  being  so. 
No  wonder !  All  his  energies  go  to  the  building  up 
of  "  the  hew,  improved,  and  vastly  enlarged  plant  " 
which  is  to  take  the  place  of  the  physical  system  of 
childhood.  He  has  very  little  energy  left  to  put  into 
the  running  of  it.  Hence  the  adolescent  scholar  should 
have  his  program  lightened.  Treat  him  as  a  con- 
valescent. 

The  Unsettled  State  of  the  Nervous  System.  —  The 
adolescent  is  fidgety  and  unreliable,  likely  to  go  off  at 
any  moment  in  the  most  inexplicable  way.  He  will 
cry  or  get  offended  for  nothing  at  all.  He  changes  his 
mind  twenty  times  a  day.  One  moment  he  plays  and 
romps  as  a  child  in  perfect  abandon ;  the  next  moment 
he  is  ashamed  of  himself  and  tries  in  his  awkward  way 
to  act  grown  up.  His  habits,  even  his  morals,  are 
unsettled,  however  steady  a  child  he  may  have  been. 
The  reason  for  all  this  is  not  far  to  seek.  The  physical 
basis  of  habit  and  morals  we  now  believe  to  be  the 
make-up  of  the  nervous  system.  But  in  the  great 
change  from  child  to  man  or  woman,  the  nervous  system 
is  redeveloping,  so  no  wonder  if  many  of  the  old  chan- 
nels and  threads  get  mixed.  Deal  gently  with  him, 
then.  He  is,  in  a  sense,  a  baby  again,  and  is  not  re- 
sponsible for  his  actions. 

Adolescence  an  Awkward,  Self-conscious  Period.  — 
Because  the  period  of  early  adolescence  is  the  beginning 
of  youth,  the  adolescent  finds  himself  possessed  by  new 
emotions  and  impulses.  They  are  strange  and  in- 


240         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

convenient  to  him.  He  does  not  know  how  to  handle 
them.  His  new  length  of  limb,  his  head's  elevation 
above  the  floor,  the  new  cut  of  his  clothes,  the  Mister 
and  the  Miss  make  him  feel  uncomfortable.  He  feels 
as  if  he  had  been  mislaid  with  no  chance  of  being  found. 
Then  everybody  is  in  the  habit  of  staring  at  him.  The 
second  sentence  every  one  addresses  to  him  is,  "  You 
are  growing,  aren't  you  ?  Why,  you  are  quite  a  little 
man !  " 

Let  us  take  pity  on  the  young  martyr.  Don't  compel 
him  to  speak  "  pieces."  Keep  him  out  of  the  public 
glare  as  much  as  possible.  Don't  show  him  that  you 
notice  his  growth  any  more  than  you  would  tell  a 
woman  that  you  notice  that  her  hair  is  turning  gray. 
Let  him  get  used  to  his  new  life  as  mercifully  as  pos- 
sible. 

ADOLESCENCE  THE   TIME   FOR  CHARACTER  FORMATION 

"  The  hand  that  rocks  the  cradle  rules  the  world  " 
may  be  a  very  fine  sentiment,  but  it  is  absolutely  false. 
The  first  twelve  years  of  a  child's  life  count  for  com- 
paratively little  in  the  formation  of  character.  The 
period  from  thirteen  to  sixteen  is  immeasurably  more 
important  in  giving  the  ethical  trend  to  the  mind  than 
all  the  years  of  childhood.  As  we  have  just  seen  in  the 
preceding  chapter,  the  child  is  incapable  of  more  than 
a  very  rudimentary  moral  development.  The  child's 
world  of  thought,  emotion,  and  action  is  too  contracted 
to  form  any  safe  basis  for  the  development  of  a  charac- 
ter that  will  withstand  the  temptations  of  manhood. 
From  many  of  the  strongest  temptations,  such  as  the 
sexual,  the  child  is  practically  exempt.  As  to  explicit, 


Early  Adolescence  and  Youth  241 

intelligent,  religious,  moral,  and  social  opinions,  the  child 
simply  hasn't  any. 

The  Fixation  of  Certain  Habits.  —  It  is  true  that  a 
great  deal  of  character  consists  in  habit,  and  many 
habits  may  be  formed  for  life  in  childhood.  But  in  the 
great  revolution  of  mind  and  body,  known  as  adoles- 
cence, the  habits  of  childhood  lose  some  of  their  com- 
pelling force,  and  in  all  normal  cases  it  is  possible  to  re- 
shape the  whole  habit  system  of  the  adolescent.  The 
habit  that  becomes  fixed  earliest  is  probably  that  of 
pronunciation.  The  pronunciation  of  a  child  of  five 
years  is  usually  as  perfect  in  every  shade  of  dialect  and 
in  every  linguistic  peculiarity  as  that  of  a  man  of  fifty. 
But  still,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  an  adolescent  can 
learn  to  speak  a  language  without  the  least  foreign 
accent. 

Hence  it  is  safe  to  say  that  moral,  religious,  and  social 
habits  can  be  formed  and  must  be  fixed  after  the  begin- 
ning of  adolescence,  and  that  social,  moral,  and  religious 
beliefs,  codes,  ideals,  and  standard  of  values  must  be 
formed  after  childhood  is  at  an  end. 

This  truth  has  been  recognized  by  religious  society 
in  all  ages.  Almost  every  heathen  cult  of  every  age 
imposed  and  imposes  some  solemn  ordeal  for  the  adoles- 
cent, intended  to  fit  him  for  the  larger  duties  of  adult 
life.  .  Christian  churches  have  placed  confirmation  at  or 
near  this  time.  The  immersionists  do  not,  as  a  rule, 
allow  the  rite  of  baptism  at  any  earlier  period. 

The  Right  Kind  of  Teacher  for  Adolescents.  — 
Adolescence,  then,  is  the  age  of  character  formation, 
and  in  spite  of  the  high  pedagogical  authority  they 
quote  in  their  favor,  it  seems  to  us  evident  that  those 


242         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

are  wrong  who  claim  that  the  kindergarten  and  the 
primary  grades  are  the  most  important  periods  of 
education. 

Character  is  largely  propagated  by  contagion.  The 
noble  heart,  the  strong  will,  the  refined  sensibilities, 
the  pure  soul  alone  can  instill  nobility,  strength,  refine- 
ment, and  purity  into  other  minds. 

Persons  with  ideal  characters  are  not  exactly  plen- 
tiful, even  in  the  teacher's  profession;  and  hence  if 
I  were  a  city  superintendent,  I  should  choose  among 
my  teachers  the  most  perfect  specimens  of  manhood 
and  womanhood,  mental,  moral,  social,  and  physical, 
for  the  classes  made  up  of  early  adolescents.  This 
would  mean  the  eighth  grade  and  the  first  two  years 
of  the  high  school.  I  should  not  care  half  so  much  in 
these  grades  for  scholarship  as  for  character.  But  what 
is  a  "good  character"?  How  should  it  be  chosen? 
First,  don't  mistake  stupidity  and  moral  cowardice  for 
virtue.  This  is  a  most  common  mistake.  Often  your 
man  of  limited  intelligence  is  likely  to  be  more  correct 
according  to  the  models  of  conventionality  than  your 
genius.  Do  not  choose  for  a  teacher  of  adolescents  a 
character  which  is  chiefly  remarkable  for  the  evil  that 
is  left  out  of  it.  Whatever  you  do,  choose  a  dynamic 
intelligence,  one  that  dares  and  does.  Choose  a  leader 
among  men,  a  person  with  initiative,  with  personal 
magnetism,  one  whom  the  pupils  will  trust,  look  up  to, 
and  follow.  Choose  him  for  the  good  that  is  in  him, 
not  for  the  bad  that  is  out  of  him.  Don't  expect  to 
find  a  faultless  person.  Choose  a  person  so  much 
bigger  than  his  faults  that  he  can  afford  to  have 
them. 


Early  Adolescence  and  Youth  243 

TEACHING  THE  ADOLESCENT  TO  KNOW  HIMSELF 

To  be  plain,  —  and  it  is  silly  to  be  anything  else,  — 
teach  the  pupil  the  facts  about  his  sexual  organs.  I 
know  how  hard  it  is  to  do  this,  how  every  person  with 
delicate  sensibilities  "  hates  "  to  obtrude  himself  upon 
the  sacred  personal  reserve  of  another  individual.  But 
if  for  a  moment  the  veil  were  lifted  and  we  could  see 
the  millions  of  victims  of  sexual  ignorance,  the  count- 
less young  lives  blighted,  the  numberless  stars  and  suns 
of  talent  and  genius  dimmed  and  darkened  just  for  the 
lack  of  a  little  elementary  knowledge  of  the  laws  of  the 
springs  of  life ;  yea,  if  we  knew  but  a  tithe  of  this,  we 
should  esteem  it  base  cowardice  to  allow  our  pupils 
to  grow  up  without  a  proper  knowledge  of  them- 
selves. 

You  cannot  overestimate  the  ignorance  on  this 
subject.  An  excellent  teacher,  in  whose  judgment  I 
have  absolute  confidence,  asserts  that  in  a  teachers' 
training  school,  where  she  spoke  on  this  subject  to  some 
eighty  teachers,  there  were  several  who  had  not  the 
faintest  conception  of  the  most  elementary  facts  about 
themselves.  Thus  we  leave  each  generation  to  solve  for 
itself  the  most  vital  and  delicate  mystery  of  life. 

Dangers  against  which  the  Adolescent  should  be 
Protected.  —  Who  will  teach  them  if  we  don't  ?  Very 
likely  the  vilest  dregs  of  human  society.  Have  you 
considered  what  that  means?  You  cannot  protect 
your  son  or  daughter  from  such  tuition.  Many  an 
attractive  young  person  of  the  same  sex  as  your  child, 
and  with  whom  you  never  think  of  forbidding  com- 
munication, is  inwardly  filled  with  "dead  men's  bones, 


244         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

and  of  all  uncleanness."  He  or  she  will  make  an  in- 
timate of  your  child  and  communicate  this  inward 
filth. 

Modern  civilization  has  added  two  other  ghouls  to 
the  list  of  fiends  on  the  track  of  the  adolescent  —  the 
patent  medicine  vender  and  the  "  renowned  specialist 
in  private  diseases."  They  want  as  many  patients  as 
possible.  So  it  is  in  their  interest  to  make  as  many 
people  as  possible  think  they  need  treatment.  Hence 
the  most  innocent  and  ordinary  trifles  are  minutely 
described  and  heralded  forth  as  "  certain  symptoms  " 
and  "  awful  danger  signals  "  of  some  loathsome  and 
dangerous  disease. 

Untold  agonies  are  suffered  by  timid  and  modest 
young  people  who,  though  sound  as  church  bells,  have 
fallen  victims  to  these  medical  sharks.  All  the  vic- 
tim's little  savings,  pocket  money,  and  pin  money  is 
spent  for  "  free  private  medical  advice  "  and  medicines 
sent  by  mail  "  in  plain  wrappers."  One  part  of  their 
promise  they  fulfill.  They  keep  the  whole  thing  secret 
enough.  Trust  them  for  that,  the  vampires !  Add 
to  the  unnecessary  worry  and  expense  the  amount  of 
useless  or  harmful  drugs  taken  by  the  victims,  and  we 
have  an  inkling  of  the  magnitude  of  the  evil ! 

Methods  of  Instruction.  —  Against  these  dangers 
teachers  and  parents  are  in  duty  bound  to  protect  their 
charges.  The  necessary  information  can  be  given  in 
three  ways :  - 

(a)   By  private  interview  with  each  pupil  alone. 

(6)  By  class  instruction  to  a  class  composed  of  one 
sex  only. 

(c)   By  the  reading  of  books  written  for  this  purpose. 


Early  Adolescence  and  Youth  245 

The  last  way  is  the  easiest  for  all  concerned.  But 
never  put  a  book  of  this  description  into  the  hands  of 
a  pupil  until  you  know  it  is  right  in  letter  and  in  spirit. 
Investigate  the  statements  of  the  book  and  verify  them 
by  good  medical  authority  before  you  give  it  to  your 
pupil.  If,  as  is  most  likely,  you  find  no  book  perfectly 
satisfactory,  annotate  the  least  objectionable  one  in 
such  a  way  that  the  pupils  are  thoroughly  safeguarded 
against  falling  into  any  dangerous  error. 

As  a  rule,  the  best  results  are  obtained  if  the  book 
method  is  supplemented  by  the  class  method.  For 
instruction,  there  is  nothing  equal  to  the  living  voice. 
Very  few  people  are  able  to  get  a  "  saving  knowledge  " 
of  any  subject  from  books  alone  without  the  living 
teacher.  Hence  a  few  class  meetings,  with  a  chance  to 
ask  questions  by  both  pupils  and  teacher,  is  generally 
desirable. 

Now  and  then  you  will  find  pupils  whose  peculiar 
character  and  environment  are  such  that  more  is  needed. 
Then  the  private  interview  is  the  duty  of  the  teacher. 

SUMMARY  OF  ADOLESCENCE 

The  adolescent  is  a  very  variable  creature,  and  here 
it  is  more  necessary  than  anywhere  else  in  school  life 
Nto  study  the  individual  and  treat  him  according  to 
his  idiosyncracies. 

Some  adolescents  retain  the  care-free,  light-hearted 
child  spirit  till  they  are  six  feet  tall ;  and  thus  change 
without  any  embarrassment  from  childhood  to  manhood. 

Others  fall  naturally  into  the  manners  of  grown  people 
while  they  are  yet  children.  They,  of  course,  know 
nothing  of  the  gawky  age. 


246         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Children  are  no  more  attracted  to  the  opposite  sex 
than  to  their  own;  but  in  the  nature  of  things,  the 
adolescent,  as  a  rule,  begins  to  feel  drawn  to  the  op- 
posite sex.  But  instances  are  not  uncommon  where 
adolescents  do  not  care  more  for  the  other  sex  than 
children  do.  This  liking  for  the  opposite  sex  is  often 
manifested  by  the  show  of  unspeakable  contempt  which 
boys  affect  for  girls  at  this  age,  and  the  aversion  for  boys 
manifested  by  the  girls. 

Early  adolescence  is  a  veritable  second  birth,  and  a 
birth  into  a  higher  life  than  childhood.  It  is  the  in- 
troduction to  the  true  golden  age  —  youth. 

YOUTH 

Youth  is  the  true  golden  age  of  life.  Childhood  is 
not.  Child  life  is  too  narrow,  too  near  the  animal  stage 
of  existence  to  be  worthy  of  the  extravagant  praise 
bestowed  upon  it  by  the  retrospective  poet.  Here  it 
is  indeed  true  that  "  'tis  distance  lends  enchantment 
to  the  view."  But  in  youth  the  spirit  sweeps  through 
the  whole  vast  range  of  human  interests;  and  to  the 
zest  that  comes  from  wide  interests,  strong  emotions, 
and  new-found  power  is  added  the  joy  of  novelty,  and 
of  unknown  possibilities,  the  bliss  of  the  "  first  time/' 

CONTRAST  BETWEEN   CHILDHOOD  AND  YOUTH 

The  Child,  a  Materialist;  the  Youth,  an  Idealist.  — 
As  we  have  seen,  the  child  is  unsentimental.  Youth 
builds  castles  in  Spain,  loves  the  mystic  and  super- 
natural, delights  in  daydreams  and  sentiment. 

The  Child,  Self-centered;  the  Youth,  Social.  —  The 
child  is  necessarily  narrow  in  his  sympathies.  He  is 


Early  Adolescence  and  Youth  247 

interested  in  the  welfare  of  but  few  persons  outside  of 
the  immediate  family  circle.  "  Lord,  save  me  and  my 
wife,  my  son  John  and  his  wife,"  is  a  sentiment  that 
children  find  perfectly  natural.  As  the  child's  imagina- 
tion is  weak,  he  cannot  "  put  himself  in  the  other  fel- 
low's place,"  and  hence  often  appears  hard-hearted  and 
cruel.  Not  so  youth.  This  is  the  age  when  we  over- 
flow with  tenderness,  pity,  and  sympathy.  The  child 
can  scarcely  be  said  to  have  a  social  world  at  all.  Youth 
is  the  very  time  of  all  times  for  comradeship,  fellowship, 
social  pleasures,  love,  and,  above  all,  friendship.  He 
who  had  no  intimate  friend  in  his  youth  is  not  likely  to 
be  worth  much.  How  we  do  trust  humankind  in  those 
noble  days !  How  we  do  enjoy  the  society  of  our  kind ! 
Youth  is  the  age  for  reformers  and  martyrs,  for  hero- 
ism and  self-sacrifice,  for  loyalty  and  discipleship. 

The  Child,  Utilitarian;  the  Youth,  Esthetic.  —  The 
child's  first  question  about  an  object  is,  "  What  is  it 
for?  "  By  this  the  child  means :  In  what  way  can  we 
get  bread,  butter,  or  amusement  out  of  it  ?  Even  when 
drawing  or  painting,  children  do  not  desire  primarily 
to  make  pretty  things.  A  child's  highest  ambition  is 
to  make  something  that  is  "  good  for  something,"  i.e. 
useful.  But  for  youth,  beauty  is  one  of  the  great  con- 
cerns of  life.  The  child-girl  cares  comparatively  little 
how  she  "  looks."  The  maiden  in  her  teens  finds  this 
a  topic  of  absorbing  interest.  No  normal  child  cares 
for  classic  poetry;  no  normal  youth  but  tries  to  write 
it.  The  child  likes  stories  of  adventure,  not  because  he 
admires  bravery,  for  he  does  not  to  any  enthusiastic 
extent ;  but  because  he  idolizes  success.  The  youth 
is  enamored  of  tales  of  romance  and  mystery,  for  they 


248         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

feed  his  sentimental  nature.  He  loves  courage,  chiv- 
alry, and  magnanimity  for  their  own  sake,  and  not 
simply  for  the  power  to  gain  the  victory. 

MEDIEVALISM  AND  THE  ETHICS  OF  YOUTH 

Adolescence  and  early  youth  correspond  to  the 
Middle  Ages  in  history.  There  is  in  both  the  same  re- 
ligious fervor,  the  same  enthusiasm  for  the  "  things 
beyond."  The  same  tendency  to  romanticism  and 
mysticism,  asceticism  and  chivalry  is  noticeable  in  both. 
The  teacher  in  treating  the  adolescent  should  constantly 
remember  that  he  is  handling  a  denizen  of  the  medieval 
world. 

Nowhere  is  this  more  important  than  when  the  eth- 
ical concepts  of  the  pupil  form  a  factor  in  the  problem. 

The  moral  code  of  youth  is  almost  the  exact  oppo- 
site of  that  of  childhood.  The  emphasis  is  placed  on 
the  social  or  "  altruistic  "  virtues,  and  mere  brute 
force  and  cunning  are  held  in  contempt.  The  moral 
sense  is  in  this  period  liable  to  certain  diseases,  and 
against  these  the  parent  and  teacher  should  always  be 
on  guard. 

Mental  Diseases  of  Youth.  —  Morbidity.  —  There  is 
in  all  of  us  a  certain  appetite  for  grewsome  imaginings. 
In  youth  this  can  easily  develop  into  a  disease,  luring 
the  unfortunate  victim  to  poison  his  mind  with  that 
literature  found  in  novels  and  newspapers  which  deals 
with  the  loathsome  details  of  crime. 

Asceticism.  —  Society  in  its  medieval  stage,  and  the 
individual  in  early  youth,  have  a  tendency  to  accept 
the  beliaf  that  there  is  moral  merit  in  mere  suffering. 
"  Be  sure,"  said  a  devotee  of  this  doctrine,  "  that  what 


Early  Adolescence  and  Youth  249 

is  repulsive  to  you  is  pleasing  to  God."  This  morbid 
view  is  responsible  for  much  misery  among  young 
people  of  more  contemplative  disposition. 

Abstract  Altruism  and  Concrete  Selfishness.  —  This 
is  perhaps  the  most  common  disease  of  character  among 
the  young.  Pious  Lulu  wants  to  be  a  missionary  and 
dreams  of  sacrificing  her  lifetime,  her  energy,  and  beauty 
in  teaching  "  black  little  lambs  "  in  Africa.  But  she 
cuffs  and  scolds  her  little  brother  who  prefers  play  to 
waiting  on  her.  Many  young  girls  aspire  to  work  in 
the  slums  or  to  devote  themselves  to  the  emancipation 
of  woman ;  but  it  never  occurs  to  them  to  find  out  if 
Sally  in  the  kitchen  is  overworked  or  to  help  Sally's 
brothers  or  sisters  out  of  their  abject  poverty. 

The  Cure.  —  The  cure  is  the  same  as  that  which 
the  Lord  gave  the  world  for  medievalism :  work. 
The  discovery  of  a  New  World,  which  had  to  be  ex- 
plored, conquered,  settled,  and  quarreled  about;  the 
increased  industrial  activity  of  Europe ;  the  invention 
of  printing  and  the  coincident  intellectual  revival; 
religious  and  political  quarrels :  all  these  things  gave 
Europe  enough  to  do,  so  that  she  found  it  impossible 
to  go  on  any  longer  with  morbid  mopings. 

Let  us  apply  the  same  cure  to  the  morbid,  over- 
wrought, sentimentalizing  youth.  Keep  him  occupied. 
A  little  drudgery  will  not  hurt  him.  Mechanical 
drudgery  only  is,  however,  far  from  sufficient.  Above 
all,  give  him  work  that  calls  out  his  constructive  and 
combative  propensities.  A  small  dose  of  athletic  com- 
petitive games  is  not  bad.  But  constructive  work,  such 
as  gardening,  sloyd,  actual  work  on  the  farm  and  in 
the  shop,  teaching,  and  the  study  of  subjects  that  re- 


250         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

quire  a  great  deal  of  concentration,  form  the  best  anti- 
dote. Sunny,  simple,  and  sincere  home  life  gives  the 
atmosphere  in  which  these  morbid  bacteria  do  not 
long  thrive. 

But  let  all  elder  leaders  of  the  young  heed  this 
solemn  warning :  Do  not  mistake  the  vital  idealism  of 
youth  for  morbid  sentimentality  !  Very  often  when  we 
think  we  discover  silly  sentimentality  in  medieval  life 
and  in  youth,  the  mistake  is  not  theirs,  but  ours.  The 
sordid  prose  of  mature  life  and  modern  civilization  is 
as  frightful  a  failure  in  reaching  life's  ideal  as  is  the 
overwrought  poetry  of  medievalism  and  youth. 

COMPARISON  OF  YOUTH  AND  MATURITY 

If  men  lived  ideal  lives,  maturity  would  be  a  larger, 
stronger,  and  freer  youth.  But  men  do  not  always 
live  ideal  lives.  In  many  of  us  the  divine  fire  of  youth 
is  succeeded  by  the  cold,  calculating  spirit  that  we  have 
misnamed  practical.  I  recall  a  case  in  point.  O,  the 
lavish  majesty  of  his  youth  !  What  grace,  what  poetry 
was  there,  what  breadth  of  view,  what  charity  for  all 
mankind,  what  courage  in  every  just  cause !  But  he 
grew  a  year  older  every  year,  married,  had  children, 
likewise  political  ambitions;  succeeded  with  both, 
became  a  statesman,  a  pillar  of  society,  a  deacon  of 
the  church,  and  a  millionaire.  Oh,  yes  —  yes  —  he 
had  marvelous  success,  had  this  man  —  but  at  what 
cost  ?  At  fifty,  he  was  a  man  without  ideals  —  illu- 
sions of  youth,  he  called  them.  His  life  was  sordid 
prose,  mere  ledger  accounts.  In  politics  he  had  com- 
promised with  his  conscience  and  the  devil  Expediency 
until,  to  save  his  soul,  he  could  not  tell  his  conscience 


Early  Adolescence  and  Youth  251 

from  expediency.  Still  he  was  what  the  world  calls  a 
man  of  "  sterling  character,"  and  was  held  up  as  a 
model  to  the  young  men  of  the  state.  All  that  was 
really  human  in  him  in  his  mature  life  were  the  funda- 
mental impulses  connected  with  family  life  —  his  love 
and  devotion  to  his  wife  and  children.  All  else  had 
dried  up  in  the  fervent  heat  of  a  "  practical  "  life. 

It  need  not  be  so.  All  the  enthusiasm  of  youth  can 
be  kept,  even  under  the  snow  of  old  age.  All  that  we 
must  of  necessity  lose  with  age  is  the  youthful  physical 
frame  and  that  delicious  shuddering  expectancy  with 
which  inexperience  greets  the  first  experiences  of  adult 
life ;  and  these  are  more  than  counterbalanced  by  the 
widening  of  the  intellectual  horizon  and  the  deepening 
of  our  whole  nature  which  ought  to  be  the  result  of  an 
enlarged  experience. 

But,  alas!  it  is  yet  true  in  many  cases,  that  the 
individual,  as  he  advances  in  years,  becomes  more 
sordid,  hard-hearted,  and  narrow-minded. 

Psychologically,  the  process  of  growing  old  consists 
in  getting  confirmed  in  a  set  of  habits.  This  is  at 
once  the  strength  and  weakness  of  maturity.  Our 
habits  are  the  grooves  in  which  our  minds  run,  the  rails 
along  which  a  much  greater  speed  can  be  maintained 
than  on  a  road  without  rails.  The  mind  works  faster, 
better,  more  easily,  and  more  efficiently  in  these  ruts 
than  out  of  them.  Thus  maturity,  with  its  established 
system  of  habits,  can  do  more  work,  and  can  do  it  more 
easily  and  more  gracefully,  than  youth  which  is  with- 
out these  habits. 

But  the  locomotive  which  runs  so  well  on  its  rails 
is  perfectly  helpless  when  off  them.  The  whole  wide 


252         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

world  that  is  unrailed  is  not  for  the  locomotive.  Like- 
wise, as  the  ruts  of  habit  deepen  in  our  minds,  we,  as 
a  rule,  find  it  harder  and  harder  to  get  out  of  these 
ruts.  This  refers  not  to  ethical  and  technical  habits 
alone,  but  to  intellectual  as  well.  Youth  is  open  to 
conviction;  the  person  of  middle  age  has  his  beliefs 
fixed.  Harvey,  the  discoverer  of  the  circulation  of  the 
blood,  said  that  he  could  make  no  man  over  forty 
believe  in  his  discovery.  Almost  all  converts  and 
proselytes  are  young. 

THE  SPHERE  OF  INSTRUCTION  FOR  YOUTH 

Instruction  in  Science.  —  Youth  is  the  time  to  learn 
to  think  scientifically.  Not  that  it  is  natural  for  youth 
to  be  scientific.  Far  from  it!  Most  young  people  are 
perfectly  content  to  go  on  in  the  same  slipshod  rule-of- 
thumb  manner  of  thought  that  served  them  so  well  in 
childhood.  But  youth  can  be  scientific  if  it  tries.  It 
is  no  longer  antinatural  to  think  principles,  laws,  and 
relations  explicitly.  Hence  youth  should  begin  the 
study  of  science  —  not  only  natural  science,  but  social 
and  linguistic  science  as  well.  By  science  we  mean 
here  the  systematized  laws  (concepts)  that  constitute 
the  essence  of  the  facts  of  the  universe.  Just  as  truly 
as  it  is  false  pedagogy  to  require  definitions  of  children, 
just  as  certainly  is  it  bad  teaching  to  neglect  to  demand 
definitions  and  the  exact  statement  of  principles  of 
youth.  The  logical  why,  the  scientific  how,  should  be 
the  main  theme  in  the  education  of  youth. 

^Esthetic  and  Ethical  Instruction.  —  Youth  is  also 
the  time  for  aesthetic  education,  and  for  the  crowning 
of  the  work  of  ethical  education. 


P ARTEL 

PEDAGOGICAL  APPLICATION 
OF  PSYCHOLOGY 


CHAPTER  XXV 
THE   ART    OF   STUDYING 

EYE,  EAR,  AND  HAND 

PUT  down  in  black  and  white,  it  is  a  truism,  but  never- 
theless it  needs  constant  repetition,  that  the  eye,  ear, 
and  hand  of  the  student  should  be  in  condition  to  do 
the  work  required  of  them. 

The  Eye.  —  Every  teacher  should  know  that  his 
pupils  can  see  their  work.  Nearsightedness  and  astig- 
matism are  the  two  most  frequent  imperfections  that 
escape  the  teacher's  observation.  Every  teacher  should 
learn  the  simple  tests  by  which  the  presence  of  these 
imperfections  can  be  discovered. 

The  Ear.  —  Deafness  is  so  easily  discovered  by  tests 
that  any  person  with  common  sense  can  invent,  that 
there  is  no  excuse  for  the  fact  that  in  a  large  per  cent 
of  our  schools  there  are  pupils  who  are  thought  and 
even  called  dull  by  the  teacher,  when  the  real  truth  is 
that  they  do  not  hear  sufficiently  well  to  understand 
all  that  is  said. 

The  Hand.  —  The  hand  of  the  young  child  is  seldom 
ready  for  the  work  imposed  upon  it  by  our  present 
system  of  education.  The  child  is  not  ready  to  write 
and  draw  except  with  arm  movements  until  his  eighth 
or  tenth  year.  To  determine  when  the  child  is  fit  to 
begin  to  use  pen  and  pencil  does  not  require  technical 

255 


256         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

skill;  only  observation  and  moral  courage  to  obey 
common  sense  when  convinced  that  our  time-honored 
practice  is  wrong. 

Visualizers,  Audiles,  and  Motiles.  —  The  mind  deals 
in  symbols.  There  is  no  such  thing  as  "  pure  "  thought ; 
every  idea  is  shadowed  forth  to  the  mind  itself  by  the 
image  of  something  visible,  audible,  or  tangible.  Only 
through  these  images  is  thought  communicated  from 
one  person  to  another.  The  same  thought  has  several 
sets  of  images  as  its  representatives.  Thus  piano  may 
be  represented  in  the  mind  by  the  visual  image  of  a 
piano,  by  its  sound,  or  even  by  the  image  of  the  motion 
in  playing  it.  So,  in  reading  a  description  of  an  his- 
torical scene,  we  see,  hear,  and  do  it  in  imagination. 
Some  chiefly  see  the  scene  in  imagination;  these  are 
the  visualizers.  Others  find  their  auditory  images 
strongest  and  most  reliable  for  memorizing.  These 
are  called  audiles.  Finally,  many  find  that  their 
appreciation  and  grasp  of  the  situation  depend  almost 
exclusively  on  a  mental  imitation  of  the  motor  element 
of  the  scene.  These  are  of  the  motor  type,  or  motiles. 

Eye  Training  at  the  Expense  of  Ear  Training.  —  Some 
minds  learn  best  through  the  eye,  others  through  the 
ear.  The  eye-minded  pupil  should  spend  some  time 
daily  in  training  his  neglected  sense  of  hearing,  but  at 
the  same  time  it  is  wise  for  him,  when  he  is  after 
results,  to  use  his  eyes  chiefly.  Likewise,  mutatis 
mutandis,  should  be  the  course  of  the  ear-minded. 

Our  present  system  of  education  trains  the  eye  at 
the  expense  of  the  ear.  We  gain  almost  all  our  knowl- 
edge through  silent  reading  or  through  visual  obser- 
vation or  experiments.  The  result  is  that  our  ears  are 


The  Art  of  Studying  257 

left  in  pristine  ignorance.  Few  people,  nowadays, 
gain  any  knowledge  worth  having  from  speeches, 
lectures,  and  sermons.  When  we  have  heard  a  speaker 
on  some  subject,  and  are  interested,  we  hie  ourselves 
home  to  "  read  up  on  it " ;  for  we  don't  know  "  the 
first  thing  about  it  "  yet.  An  ancient  scholastic  super- 
stition makes  professors  still  lecture,  but  their  students 
do  not  listen  to  learn,  but  to  scribble  off  the  words  as 
completely  as  possible.  To  get  at  the  thought  of  the 
lecture,  they  afterwards  burn  the  midnight  oil  and 
"  bone  "  over  the  crabbed  notes  so  as  to  get  the  knowl- 
edge through  the  eyes. 

That  the  neglect  of  hearing  as  a  knowledge-gathering 
sense  is  an  evil  needs  no  proof.  To  make  its  full  im- 
pression upon  us,  truth  should  come  to  the  soul  through 
every  avenue.  The  full  grasp  of  a  truth  is  not  obtained 
until  hearing  furnishes  its  part  in  the  circuit  of  compre- 
hension. 

As  remedies,  the  following  are  suggested.  Students 
should  be  encouraged  to  read  aloud  whenever  and 
wherever  possible.  When  two  students  occupy  the 
same  room  and  have  the  same  lessons,  it  is  a  good 
plan  for  one  student  to  read,  and  the  other  to  listen  to 
the  lesson.  The  listening  student  should  not  have  his 
book  open;  thus  he  gains  doubly  in  discipline;  his 
ears  are  trained,  and  he  acquires  the  valuable  habit  of 
holding  his  mind  responsible  for  the  retention  of  that 
which  has  been  presented  to  it  only  once.  When  read- 
ing from  a  book,  one  often  lets  his  attention  wander 
because  he  knows  that  if  he  should  miss  anything,  he 
can  easily  glance  back  and  pick  it  up.  As  a  result 
his  attention  is  slovenly,  and  he  has  no  definite  grasp 


258         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

of  anything ;  but  in  listening  to  something,  he  knows 
that  it  is  now  or  never,  and  his  attention  will  act  accord- 
ingly. This  habit  of  close  attention  is  really  in  the  end 
the  cheapest  for  the  amount  of  work  it  will  accomplish. 
Importance  of  the  Motor  Element.  —  Until  he  has 
observed  himself  scientifically,  almost  every  one  is 
ignorant  of  the  great  importance  of  the  motor  element 
in  his  imagination.  The  motor  element  is  strengthened 
by  actual  imitation.  Hence  the  device  employed  in 
the  Gouin  method  of  learning  languages :  When  pos- 
sible, act  out  the  expression  while  saying  it.  Thus, 
when  saying  in  the  new  language,  "  I  open  the  door," 
open  a  door.  Then,  as  you  close  the  door,  say,  "  I 
close  the  door."  You  will  find  that  this  makes  your 
practice  more  than  doubly  effective.  Dramatic  repre- 
sentations by  the  pupils,  however  slight,  aid  greatly 
in  the  study  of  history.  After  a  pupil  has  once  acted 
out  an  historical  character,  that  character  lives  for  him. 
This  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  experimenting  in  natural 
science  produces  so  much  more  vital  knowledge  than 
that  derived  from  books.  This  is  also  one  of  the  rea- 
sons for  putting  sloyd  in  the  front  rank  as  a  means  of 
education. 

THE  PROPER  ATTITUDE  FOR  STUDY 

The  Right  Mood.  —  Teach  your  pupils  to  make  work, 
not  play,  of  their  study.  They  should  train  themselves 
to  have  definite  times  for  study  and  to  buckle  down  on 
the  minute,  and  keep  buckled  down  to  business  as  long 
as  the  study  period  lasts.  Teach  them  to  disregard 
their  "  moods  "  altogether  in  this  matter,  and  to  mind 
their  "  tenses  "  (times) ;  and  they  will  soon  find  that 


The  Art  of  Studying  259 

the  proper  attitude  will  come  of  its  own  accord;  for 
it  is  true  that  the  emotional  state  does  make  a  great 
difference  in  the  fruitfulness  of  our  efforts.  The  pupil 
should  be  in  physical  and  mental  comfort  and  in  sym- 
pathy with  his  study.  Any  excess  of  feeling  is  likely 
to  decrease  his  logical  acuteness ;  but  this  should  not 
be  interpreted  to  mean  that  he  must  not  feel  strongly 
when  the  subject  so  requires. 

The  Critical  Attitude.  —  The  attitude  of  the  student 
is  all-important.  In  receiving  information  he  should 
be  critical  and  independent  and  take  nothing  for 
granted  until  it  has  justified  itself  to  his  sense  of  ra- 
tionality. That  is,  he  should  never  for  any  chain  of 
reasoning  take  the  author's  say-so.  He  should  always 
run  through  the  logical  process  from  premises  to  con- 
clusion and  satisfy  himself  that  it  is  correct.  At  the 
same  time  he  should  learn  to  have  the  receptive  atti- 
tude. After  having  studied  a  piece  of  literature  criti- 
cally, he  should  not  stop,  but  read  it  again,  surrendering 
himself  to  its  charms,  and  attending  to  its  emotional 
interests. 

Sympathy.  —  Wherever  the  human  element  enters, 
his  attitude  should  be  sympathetic.  No  person,  age, 
or  race  can  be  understood  by  us  until  we  have  sympa- 
thized with  them  in  weal  and  woe. 

In  studying  the  French  Revolution,  the  pupil  should 
sympathize  in  turn  with  the  miserable  peasants,  the 
brilliant  political  philosophers,  the  brave  reformers,  the 
refined  emigre's,  the  splendid  nobility,  the  unfortunate 
king  and  queen,  and  all  the  unhappy  victims  of  that 
awful  political  hurricane.  Sympathy  with  all  that  is 
truly  human  in  every  partaker  in  the  great  drama  im- 


260         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

plies  necessarily  righteous  indignation  and  passionate 
condemnation  of  all  that  is  vicious,  low,  and  brutal. 
Thus,  in  the  above  example,  the  students  should  fully 
realize  the  selfishness  of  the  nobility,  the  weakness  of  the 
king,  and  the  brutality  of  the  reformers.  Our  boys 
do  not  understand  the  War  of  the  Revolution  until 
they  see  the  English  side  of  it  as  well  as  the  American, 
until  they  realize  that  it  was  inevitable  for  most  good 
and  wise  men  on  the  British  side,  like  Samuel  Johnson, 
to  regard  the  American  patriots  as  rebels.  The  broad, 
warm,  intensely  human  spirit  who  rejoices,  suffers, 
lives  with  the  characters  he  describes,  is  the  ideal  his- 
torian and  the  ideal  student. 

Intellectual  Courage.  —  The  grit  to  launch  out,  to 
take  the  initiative,  to  venture  a  decided  posito,  lies  at 
the  very  heart  of  successful  thinking.  Suppose  it  is 
a  problem  in  algebra.  The  mental  coward  is  not  dar- 
ing and  reckless  enough  in  his  invention  of  hypotheses 
for  a  solution.  He  dares  not  take  for  granted  that  his 
mind  will  and  must  keep  a  great  number  of  conditions 
clear  and  distinct  and  in  the  very  center  of  its  atten- 
tion. When  black  mystery  surrounds  him,  he  gives 
it  up  secretly  to  himself  from  the  beginning,  and  feels 
sure  he  is  to  be  defeated.  And  so  he  is,  of  course. 

The  grim  determination  that  the  edge  of  one's  mind 
shall  not  turn,  that  whatever  betides  and  whatever  the 
cost,  one  will  solve  the  mystery,  this  is  an  essential  of 
successful  thinking.  Self-reliance,  courage,  integrity  of 
purpose  mark  the  clear  thinker. 

Fixing  Facts.  —  Though  we  cannot  diminish  the 
amount  of  repetition  necessary  to  fasten  irrationalized 
facts  in  the  mechanical  memory,  we  can  make  the 


The  Art  of  Studying  261 

process  more  or  less  pleasant.  Thus,  the  best  way  of 
getting  the  facts  of  history  does  not  consist  in  reading 
over  and  over  again  a  small  manual.  The  better  way 
is  to  read  several  extensive  accounts  of  the  events  in 
question.  The  constant  recurrence  of  the  same  facts 
in  different  connections  will  fix  them  in  memory  quite 
as  quickly  as  mechanical  drill  on  the  contents  of  a 
small  book. 

In  learning  a  science  the  student  should  strive 
to  reach  as  high  a  degree  of  the  following  attri- 
butes as  possible  in  his  thought :  vividness,  clearness, 
distinctness,  comprehensiveness.  Imitate  Abraham 
Lincoln,  who  said  that  when  he  studied  he  was  never 
satisfied  until  he  had  bounded  the  new  truth  north, 
south,  east,  and  west.  As  a  rule,  we  are  too  easy  on 
our  imaginations.  Put  color,  detail,  and  life  into 
your  everyday  thinking. 

SUGGESTIONS  IN  REGARD  TO  THE  NOTEBOOK 

The  Abuse  of  the  Notebook.  —  Nine  tenths  of  the 
notebooks  of  students  are  a  decided  detriment  to  their 
owners.  They  have  spoiled  the  memories  of  this  gen- 
eration. The  notebook  works  its  saddest  havoc  in 
the  higher  institutions  of  learning  where  it  is  a  part 
of  a  greater  evil  —  the  traditional  university  lecture. 
It  is  fairly  safe  to  assert  that  as  a  rule  what  a  student 
puts  down  in  his  notebook  during  a  lecture  he  does  not 
put  down  in  his  memory.  Professor  J.  E.  Erdmann  in 
his  "  History  of  Philosophy  "  sums  up  the  whole  situ- 
ation in  a  sentence  when  he  says,  quoting  Schleier- 
macher,  "  A  professor  who  dictates  sentences  for  his 
students  to  take  down  in  reality  claims  for  himself 


262         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

the  privilege  of  ignoring  the  discovery  of  printing." 
The  lecture  which  the  students  are  expected  to  write 
down  word  for  word  has  to-day  no  excuse  for  being. 

The  lecture  has  its  place,  however,  but  only  the 
lecture  that  the  pupils  are  expected  to  hear  when  it  is 
delivered.  When  the  pupil  listens,  he  should  have  his 
whole  soul  in  his  ears;  if  he  is  scribbling  for  dear  life 
to  get  down  the  lecturer's  words  on  paper,  a  part  of  his 
mind  is  running  down  and  out  at  his  pencil  point,  and 
we  have  the  undesirable  condition  known  as  divided 
attention.  The  result  is  that  at  the  end  of  the  lecture 
the  pupil  has  no  clear  and  connected  conception  of 
what  the  lecturer  said,  but  rushes  home  to  guess  what 
his  scrawls  in  the  notebook  mean.  That  this  is  a  de- 
cided waste  of  mental  energy  ought  to  be  plain. 

How  to  use  the  Notebook.  —  At  the  lecture  or  reci- 
tation the  pupil  should  attend  to  what  is  said  with  his 
undivided  powers.  He  should  take  no  notes.  The 
only  permissible  exception  is  the  jotting  down  of  names 
and  dates  that  cannot  be  remembered.  When  the 
recitation  is  over,  and  the  pupil  is  back  at  his  desk,  he 
should  proceed  to  make  an  entry  in  his  notebook  of 
the  lesson  or  lecture,  as  follows :  — 

First,  he  should  make  a  very  brief  systematic  out- 
line of  the  subject,  to  occupy  a  separate  place  in  the 
book,  or,  better  still,  be  put  in  a  book  of  its  own.  This 
outline  should  be  the  pupil's  outline.  The  teacher  or 
the  text  may  give  an  outline,  and  this  may  be  used  as 
a  basis  for  the  pupil's  outline,  but  the  pupil  should  not 
be  satisfied  until  he  has  introduced  some  "  improve- 
ments "  in  the  outline.  He  has  not  perfectly  assim- 
ilated the  thought  of  teacher  and  text,  or  he  has  not 


The  Art  of  Studying  263 

maintained  the  critical  attitude  as  he  should  have 
done,  if  he  cannot  suggest  what  to  him  seem  improve- 
ments. The  pupil  should  also  put  in  his  notebook  any 
information  gained  in  class  or  from  lectures  that  cannot 
readily  be  found  in  texts  and  that  is  of  sufficient  value 
to  be  remembered ;  also  any  valuable  new  point  of 
view,  or  new  insight,  he  has  gained ;  and  finally  his  own 
views,  especially  when  they  differ  from  those  generally 
accepted. 

A  Few  Rules.  —  Make  your  notes  as  brief  and  pithy 
as  possible.  Half  a  dozen  lines  on  each  subject  a  day 
is  usually  enough.  Write  nothing  in  your  notebook 
that  you  do  not  expect  to  read  over  and  over  again  in 
the  future.  Leave  every  other  page  blank  for  future 
notes.  Date  every  entry.  Thus  your  notebook  will 
become  a  record  of  the  evolution  of  your  mind. 

Exercise 

1.  Are  you  predominantly  a  visualizer  or  an  audile? 

2.  Listen  to  a  paragraph  read  by  some  one  else,  and  then  sum- 
marize its  contents ;  then  read  another  paragraph  of  about  the  same 
length  and  difficulty,  and  summarize  its  contents.    Which  sense, 
sight  or  hearing,  gave  you  the  best  results  ? 

3.  Have  you  ever  heard  of  notebooks  being  bequeathed  for  years 
from  class  to  class  in  a  school  ?    How  much  benefit  does  a  pupil 
get  from  copying  another's  notes  ? 

4.  Did  you  ever  hear  of  any  one  who  was  converted  in  religion, 
politics,  or  anything  else  by  means  of  a  debate  ?    In  what  attitude 
is  the  mind  of  the  debater  towards  the  propositions  of  the  other 
side? 


CHAPTER  XXVI 

THE   RECITATION 

THE  PURPOSES  OF  THE  RECITATION 

THE  purposes  of  a  recitation  are :  — 

(a)  To  test  the  pupil's  faithfulness  and  success  in 
acquiring  and  assimilating  the  lesson. 

(6)  To  drill  on  the  memory  and  art  element  of  the 
lesson. 

(c)  To  teach  the  pupil  to  think  rationally. 

(d)  To  help  him  gain  culture. 

(e)  To  prepare  for  the  study  of  the  next  lesson. 

In  and  through  and  above  it  all,  the  true  teacher 
seeks  to  create  the  right  ideals  in  his  pupils,  but  as 
this  is  a  constant  element  in  all  true  teaching,  and  the 
all-important  element,  it  is  not  coordinate  with  the 
specific  purposes  of  the  recitation  and  is  not  mentioned 
as  such. 

THE  TEST 

As  a  rule,  the  test  should  be  incidental.  While  the 
teacher  directs  the  energies  of  the  class  toward  the 
realization  of  the  other  purposes,  it  will  generally 
become  manifest  whether  the  pupils  have  been  faithful 
in  their  efforts  to  study  the  lesson. 

At  times,  however,  it  becomes  necessary  to  reveal  the 
poor  student  definitely  and  swiftly  both  to  the  teacher 

264 


The  Recitation  265 

and  to  himself.  Then  it  is  best  to  ask  a  question  which 
is  capable  of  a  brief,  definite  answer  easily  derived  from 
the  lesson.  If  the  pupil  suffers  from  laziness  or  confu- 
sion of  ideas,  make  this  very  plain  to  him.  Show  him 
the  imperfections  of  his  answer,  generally  by  pointed 
questions.  Here  "  leading  questions  "  are  not  out  of 
order.  If  lack  of  application  is  the  cause  of  the  failure, 
let  it  be  apparent.  At  times  it  may  be  best  to  inform 
the  pupil  briefly  and  brutally,  "  You  have  not  studied 
this  lesson,"  and  ignore  him  for  the  rest  of  the  recita- 
tion. But  some  pupils  develop  a  beautiful  resignation 
under  this  treatment,  and  will  bob  up  cheerfully, 
recitation  after  recitation,  with  an  "  I  don't  know," 
and  sit  down  with  a  complacent  sigh  as  if  now  that 
worry  were  over.  Some  teachers  inform  such  a  pupil 
regularly  that  he  ought  to  study  his  lesson,  that  he 
cannot  expect  to  pass,  and  that  it  is  a  "  shame." 
To  all  of  which  the  pupil  agrees  by  a  deprecatory  stoop 
in  his  shoulders  and  a  downcast  glance ;  but  a  second 
afterward  he  is  as  happy  as  the  best  of  them.  Scold- 
ings run  off  his  soul  like  water  off  the  back  of  a  goose. 
The  proper  treatment  in  this  case  is  a  little  judicious 
"grilling."  Don't  let  the  habitually  ill-prepared  pupil 
get  off  with  an  "  I  don't  know."  Ply  him  with  other 
questions,  and  let  him  repeat  his  formula  till  he  gets 
tired  of  it.  Give  him  the  book,  point  out  the  passage, 
and  let  him  read  the  paragraph  referred  to.  Then 
when  he  closes  the  book,  open  the  battery  of  ques- 
tions on  him  again.  If  one  or  two  doses  of  this 
treatment  do  not  cure  him,  harsher  methods  may  be 
necessary.  Too  much  time  may  easily  be  spent  in 
mere  testing. 


266        Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

DRILL 

Necessity  for  Drill.  —  Every  subject  contains  a 
certain  element  that  must  simply  be  memorized.  In 
some  subjects,  like  arithmetic,  there  are  certain  pro- 
cesses, a  certain  mental  technique,  to  be  acquired. 
Others,  again,  like  manual  training  and  the  experi- 
mental sciences,  require  certain  manual  skill.  This  is 
the  art  element  in  education.  (Art  here  has  no  aesthetic 
connotation.)  These  are  the  habit  studies.  These 
can  be  acquired  only  by  that  repetition  which  is  gen- 
erally known  as  drill. 

Much  of  this  drill  should  be  gained  by  the  pupil 
when  preparing  the  lesson;  but  in  all  work  below  the 
high  school,  drill  of  the  technical  element  should  con- 
sume a  generous  share  of  the  recitation  time.  Let  us 
adopt  in  a  measure  the  practical  methods  of  the  fathers ! 
There  is  but  one  way  of  acquiring  the  technique  of 
civilization,  and  that  is  the  method  of  the  old  school, 
—  drill,  and  drill  in  the  class  under  the  eye  of  the 
teacher. 

Methods  of  Drill  at  the  Recitation.  —  The  whole 
class  should  be  kept  busy  throughout  the  recitation 
period  of  drill,  and  the  teacher  should  be  able  to  dis- 
cover an  error  in  the  pupil's  work  the  instant  it  is  made. 

In  mathematics  the  whole  class  may  be  put  to  black- 
board work.  Rapid  and  accurate  computation  and 
correct  and  neat  statements  should  be  required. 
After  the  pupil  has  thus  told  what  he  has  done  in  written 
mathematical  language,  he  may  be  required  to  spend 
some  little  time  in  telling  the  same  tale  in  oral  mathe- 
matical language.  The  rest  of  the  class  should  act  as 


The  Recitation  267 

critics.  In  this  explaining  of  problems,  the  tendency 
is  always  to  require  too  much  of  the  pupil.  Too  often 
the  teacher  will  require  the  ten-year-old  child  to  reason 
as  explicitly  as  he  himself  reasons. 

If  spelling  is  taught  as  a  separate  subject,  the  written 
recitation  on  tablet  or  blackboard  is  the  best  form. 
As  a  change  and  recreation,  the  oral  recitation  may  be 
introduced. 

History  and  geography  require  less  drill  work  than 
most  subjects.  Frequent  brief  chronological  sum- 
maries, written  by  the  pupils  on  the  blackboard,  are  a 
useful  drill  in  history.  If  mistakes  are  made,  the  pupils 
should  correct  them,  not  simply  be  made  cognizant  of 
them.  Gazeteer  work  and  map  drawing  are  useful 
for  the  same  purpose  in  the  geography  class.  Free- 
hand drawing  of  maps,  first  from  copy  and  then  from 
memory,  is  the  only  kind  of  map  drawing  that  is  not 
a  waste  of  time  and  energy  in  the  grades.  For  seat 
work  the  tablet  is  excellent,  but  the  recitation  drill 
should  be  conducted  at  the  blackboard. 

Every  word  the  pupil  speaks  is  a  drill  in  oral  language. 
The  general  rule  is :  Correct  every  mistake  in  language 
as  soon  as  made,  and  see  that  the  pupil  repeats  the 
correct  form.  There  are  exceptions  to  this  rule,  the 
occasions  for  which  the  tactful  teacher  will  easily 
discover. 

The  written  language  work  of  the  recitation  should 
generally  be  blackboard  work.  It  should  be  criticised 
either  by  another  pupil  or  by  the  teacher,  and  should 
invariably  be  corrected  by  the  pupil  himself.  Mis- 
spelled words  should  be  rewritten  correctly  several 
times. 


268         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

TRAINING  IN  THOUGHT 

Though  drill  is  important,  it  is  by  no  means  all- 
sufficient.  The  pupils  should  also  learn  to  think. 
This  mere  drill  cannot  teach.  The  characteristics 
of  successful  thought  may  be  catalogued  as  follows : 
interest,  vividness,  clearness,  distinction,  and  organi- 
zation. 

Interest.  —  Keep  on  the  pupil's  plane.  Let  the  pupil 
do  the  thinking  and  talking ;  don't  talk  to  him  and  at 
him  all  the  time.  Connect  his  lessons  with  his  daily 
life.  Be  a  comrade  to  your  pupils.  Shed  the  solemn 
Prince-Albert-coat  air.  Cultivate  a  sunny  disposition 
and  invite  smiles  and  even  laughter  to  sojourn  with 
you  in  the  scholastic  shades. 

Vividness.  —  Demand  and  give  details.  This  gives 
life  and  color  to  history  and  geography.  If  practicable, 
bring  the  thing  itself;  but  if  the  thing  itself  should 
happen  to  be  a  volcano,  bring  a  model  or,  if  this  is 
impracticable,  a  picture.  A  colored  picture  is  better 
than  one  in  black  and  white. 

Clearness  and  Definiteness.  —  Almost  invariably 
the  thought  of  the  pupil  is  dim  and  indefinite.  The 
greatest  service  the  teacher  can  do  for  the  improvement 
of  the  thinking  of  his  pupils  is  in  clarification.  This 
should  be  done  at  the  recitation  by  judicious  question- 
ing.  When  a  pupil  has  caught  a  truth  by  the  hind 
legs,  don't  become  cheaply  sarcastic  over  the  undig- 
nified appearance  he  and  his  truth  make.  Show  your 
gratitude  for  what  he  has  done,  but  make  it  plain  that 
improvements  are  desirable,  and  indicate  by  question 
or  remark  the  direction  in  which  improvement  is  needed. 


The  Recitation  269 

Keep  this  thought  clearly  before  your  mind :  It  is 
not  sufficient  that  the  teacher  think  clearly.  This  is 
often  forgotten.  Some  teachers  get  into  the  habit  of 
furbishing  up  the  vague  answers  of  their  pupils  into 
logical  exactness,  and  then  passing  on  to  another 
question.  The  class  easily  falls  into  the  habit  of  letting 
the  teacher  do  the  thinking.  This  practice  has  given 
rise  to  the  rule :  Never  repeat  and  improve  the  answer 
of  a  pupil.  Let  the  pupils  themselves  do  the  improving. 

This  rule  may,  however,  become  a  pedagogical  heresy, 
based  on  the  false  notion  that  there  is  something  dis- 
honorable in  all  thinking  that  is  not  wholly  original. 
By  all  means  furnish  the  clear  and  exact  thought  and 
expression  yourself  if  you  cannot  readily  get  it  from  the 
class;  but  be  sure  that  the  class  thinks  the  thought 
after  you.  Don't  ask  them  to  repeat  your  statement. 
A  mere  repetition  signifies  nothing,  for  it  may  be  done 
without  understanding  the  thought  in  the  least;  but 
ask  the  next  question  so  that  an  answer  to  it  will  in- 
volve a  clear  conception  of  the  thought  that  went  before. 

For  example,  the  teacher  has  just  made  plain  to  the 
pupil  that  Simon  de  Montfort's  parliament  of  1265, 
though  the  first  parliament  in  which  the  Commons 
were  represented,  was  not  a  legal  parliament,  because 
summoned  by  a  revolutionary  leader;  and  that  the 
complete  parliament  consists  of  King,  Lords,  and 
Commons.  His  next  question  may  be,  "  Why  was  the 
parliament  of  1295  a  legal  parliament?  "  If  the  pupil 
answers,  "  Because  the  King  summoned  it  in  the  cus- 
tomary fashion,"  he  is  right;  but  if  he  answers,  as  a 
loose  thinker  is  likely  to  do,  "  Because  it  consisted  of 
King,  Lords,  and  Commons,"  he  shows  that  he  did 


270         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

not  follow  the  thought  of  the  previous  discussion. 
Equally  wrong  would  it  be  for  him  to  answer  the 
question,  "  What  made  this  parliament  complete?  " 
by  "  Because  it  was  legally  summoned." 

The  formal  lecture  has  no  place  in  the  grades  or  the 
high  school.  The  teacher,  in  giving  information  and 
leading  the  thinking  of  his  class,  will  find  the  conver- 
sational method  best. 

Devices  for  securing  Clearness  of  Thought.  —  Here 
are  a  few  devices  that  have  proved  useful  in  secur- 
ing clearness  and  exactness  of  thought.  Ask  the 
pupils  to  describe  a  character  or  an  event  by  one  word. 
Let  all  that  wish  present  candidate  words,  and  then 
let  the  class  and  the  teacher  decide.  A  recitation  on 
some  topic  expressed  in  one  simple  sentence  is  a  useful 
variation  of  the  above.  When,  as  often  happens,  the 
beginning  and  end  of  a  pupil's  answer  do  not  fit  to- 
gether, and  the  pupil  does  not  readily  note  the  error, 
send  him  to  the  blackboard  to  write  it  out.  A  written 
imperfection  is  more  easily  discovered  than  an  oral. 

Organization.  —  The  organic  connection  of  every 
idea  with  other  ideas  should  always  be  emphasized. 
This  is  the  truth  of  correlation.  Oral  and  blackboard 
summaries  and  outlines  should  often  be  called  for. 
A  useful  exercise  is  the  Logical  Chain.  This  consists 
in  giving  the  chain  of  effect  and  cause  for  as  long  a 
distance  as  possible.  For  example :  malaria  —  parasite 
in  the  blood  corpuscle  —  mosquitoes  —  stagnant  water. 

TRAINING  IN  CULTURE 

The  teacher  and  the  class  should  not  spend  all  their 
time  in  the  critical,  analytical  frame  of  mind  that  comes 


The  Recitation  271 

naturally  with  intense  intellectual  work;  the  sympa- 
thetic, synthetic  mood  should  be  invited  when  literary 
beauty  is  at  hand.  Let  the  class  read  at  times  for  pure 
enjoyment,  and  don't  worry  about  the  "  purpose  of 
the  author  "  or  the  logic  of  the  argument. 

THE  ART  OF  QUESTIONING 

The  teacher's  questions  should  be  definite.  One 
answer  and  only  one  should  fit  each  question. 

Leading  questions  are  bad  under  all  ordinary  con- 
ditions of  the  recitation.  Rarely,  however,  occasions 
may  arise  when  a  leading  question  will  straighten  out 
a  bewildered  pupil  better  than  direct  information. 

Questions  that  may  be  answered  by  yes  or  no  are 
generally  inadvisable  because  they  narrow  down  the 
pupil's  necessity  for  thinking  to  its  smallest  extent. 
They  also  encourage  guessing.  The  pupil  is  right  one 
chance  out  of  two,  —  a  luring  gambling  proposition. 

The  question  that  offers  alternatives  is  objectionable 
on  the  same  grounds.  Often,  however,  an  alternative 
question  is  the  only  natural  one  to  ask.  Then  ask  it, 
but  tack  on  a  why  or  a  how  to  compel  the  pupil  to  give 
the  reasons  for  his  choice. 

The  topical  recitation  is  to  be  preferred  to  the  ques- 
tion method,  as  soon  as  the  pupils  are  ready  for  it. 
It  gives  training  in  consecutive  thinking. 

The  "  Answer  in  Complete  Sentences  "  Fallacy.  — 
To  require  the  pupil  to  answer  in  a  complete  sentence 
is  often  an  absurdity.  Pupils  and  teachers  are  human 
beings,  and  schools  are  on  the  surface  of  this  planet. 
The  same  laws  of  grammar,  logic,  rhetoric,  and  good 
sense  hold  inside  of  the  walls  of  the  schoolroom  as 


272         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

outside.  Good  taste  and  the  laws  of  language  require 
that  no  effort  should  be  wasted.  The  complete-sen- 
tence answer  is  generally  a  clumsy  and  unwarranted 
waste  of  words.  Let  your  pupil  answer  you  just  as 
you  would  expect  a  cultured  person  outside  of  school 
to  answer  the  same  question.  When  you  suspect  that 
the  brevity  of  the  answer  hides  imperfection  of  compre- 
hension, it  may  sometimes  be  well  to  ask  a  pupil  to 
fill  out  the  ellipsis ;  but  such  occasions  are  exceptions, 
even  if  frequent. 

The  following  anecdote  is  better  than  an  argument. 
Institute  conductor  A  believed  that  every  answer  in 
the  schoolroom  should  be  made  in  a  complete  sentence. 
B  dared  to  question  the  absoluteness  of  this  rule.  A  de- 
clared dogmatically  that  there  are  no  exceptions.  A 
little  while  later,  when  it  was  B's  turn  to  speak,  he  asked 
A  what  time  it  was.  A,  off  his  guard,  answered,  "  Ten 
o'clock."  Back  came  the  crushing  query,  "  Why 
didn't  you  answer  in  a  complete  sentence?"  This 
would  have  finished  any  ordinary  mortal,  but  A  was 
not  an  ordinary  mortal.  He  did  not  know  when  he 
was  beaten,  so  he  began  a  long  argument  in  favor  of 
the  complete  answer.  B  listened  patiently  until  A 
had  exhausted  his  eloquence.  Then,  as  if  to  sum  it 
up,  B  said,  "  So  then,  if  I  understand  you,  you  hold  that 
the  answer  should  always  be  a  complete  sentence?" 
"  Always,"  shouted  A  with  emphasis. 

THE  PUPILS  AS  CRITICS 

Some  teachers  fear  their  dignity  would  be  impaired 
if  they  allowed  the  pupils  to  criticise  the  teacher's 
opinions.  This  is  false  pride,  and  such  dignity  never 


The  Recitation  273 

did  either  them  or  their  pupils  any  good.  By  its 
very  nature,  truth  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  and  as 
truth-seekers  we  are  not  in  the  right  attitude  until  all 
superstitious  regard  for  person  and  position  is  obliter- 
ated. The  teacher  should  recognize  his  own  fallibility 
and  always  welcome  any  respectful  objection  from  the 
pupils. 

Many  teachers  object  to  allowing  the  pupils  to  criti- 
cise one  another.  It  is  feared  that  this  may  breed 
faultfinding  and  bitterness  between  pupils.  This  ob- 
jection is  based  on  a  misconception.  Truth  and  false- 
hood are  universal,  and  not  our  individual  property. 
Every  pupil  should  recognize  that  it  is  not  John  and 
Mary  that  are  up  for  discussion,  but  the  truth  or  false- 
hood of  John's  or  Mary's  opinion.  Children  will 
easily  learn  to  conduct  such  a  discussion  in  a  perfectly 
impersonal  manner. 

This  is  the  only  method  of  keeping  all  the  pupils 
busy  in  every  recitation.  Make  each  pupil  responsible 
for  the  correctness  of  every  other  pupil's  recitation. 
As  a  rule  as  soon  as  a  pupil's  recitation  on  any  topic 
is  finished,  every  pupil  who  does  not  agree  should 
raise  his  hand  immediately,  and  should  be  given  a 
chance  to  state  his  criticisms. 

Exercises 

1.  Criticise  this  class  recitation  question:  George,  who  was  the 
second  president  of  the  United  States  ? 

2.  In  almost  every  class  there  are  some  pupils  who  are  much 
slower  and  others  who  are  much  quicker  than  the  average  in  their 
thinking.    Give  some  devices  by  which  the  slow  ones  may  share  in 
the  recitation  and  the  rapid  ones  may  still  be  kept  busy. 


CHAPTER  XXVII 

HOW  TO  TEACH  SCIENCE  AND  WHAT  SCIENCE 
TO  TEACH* 

THE  DOUBLE  OBJECT  OF  SCIENTIFIC  STUDY 

THE  double  object  of  all  scientific  study  is  to  put  the 
pupil  into  possession  of  (a)  a  trained  attention,  that  is, 
skill  in  thinking,  and  (6)  a  well-chosen  and  well-organ- 
ized store  of  knowledge. 

Training  in  Attention,  or  the  Skill  of  Thinking.  — 
More  or  less  exact  and  happy  synonyms  for  the  power 
of  attention  are  concentration  of  mind,  logical  faculty, 
ability  to  reason.  Like  all  other  skill,  it  can  be  acquired 
only  by  practice.  The  constant  aim  of  the  pupil 
should  be  to  attain  to  a  higher  and  higher  degree  of 
concentrated  attention.  As  he  grows  in  ability  to 
concentrate  he  will  find  that  his  powers  of  analysis  and 
synthesis  increase  and  that  his  ideas  become  clearer, 
more  definite,  and  more  vivid. 

Educated  attention  has  the  following  characteristics : 

It  produces  clear  ideas.  The  subdivisions  and 
organization  of  the  idea  are  plainly  marked  out  for  the 
mind". 

It  produces  distinct  ideas.    Each  idea  is  definitely 

*  The  word  science  is  here  used  in  its  broad  meaning,  as  denoting 
all  classified  knowledge. 

274 


How  to  Teach  Science  275 

marked  off  from  all  other  ideas,  and  its  connections 
with  other  ideas  are  defined. 

It  produces  vivid  ideas.  There  is  no  mist,  incomplete- 
ness, or  elusiveness  about  the  conceptions  of  the  edu- 
cated mind,  except  when  it  attempts  problems  which 
lie  on  the  border  of  the  unknowable. 

We  may,  perhaps,  here  distinguish  two  kinds  of 
thought :  critical  and  constructive.  Our  schools  drill 
almost  exclusively  on  critical  thought.  The  object 
of  the  thinker  in  school  exercises  is  nearly  always  to 
discover  the  thought  that  some  one  else  has  had  before 
him.  Thus,  the  object  of  the  scientist  is  to  discover 
the  thought  in  nature,  "  to  think  God's  thoughts  after 
him."  In  history  the  object  of  the  student  is  to  dis- 
cover the  thoughts  of  "  the  men  of  old."  The  student 
of  literature  seeks  to  discover  the  thoughts  of  the  author. 
The  student  of  mathematics  seeks  for  the  thought- 
relations  already  in  the  problems.  This  we  may  call 
critical  thought,  and  of  it  there  is  an  abundance  in  our 
schools. 

Constructive  thought  is,  however,  rarely  met  with 
in  the  school,  but  is  in  great  demand  in  real  life.  The 
farmer  in  planning  his  work,  the  engineer  in  building 
a  bridge,  the  politician  in  laying  his  wires,  do  not  simply 
discover  "  the  thought  in  the  thing,"  but  they  must 
build  thought-complexes  to  meet  special  demands. 

The  following  school  exercises  give  training  in  con- 
structive thought :  composition,  the  invention  of  prob- 
lems in  mathematics,  discussions  of  what  "  might  have 
been  "  in  history,  and  all  sloyd  work,  but  especially 
where  the  pupil  is  allowed  to  invent  his  model. 

All  exercises  to  strengthen  attention  should  follow 


276         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

the  laws  of  attention.  The  work  must  accommodate 
itself  to  the  pulses  of  attention,  and  should  make  such 
a  demand  on  the  pupil's  energy  that  the  maximum 
amount  of  work  can  be  secured  before  fatigue  sets  in. 
The  work  should  as  far  as  possible  be  directly  and 
pleasantly  interesting  to  the  pupil. 

The  Acquirement  of  a  Store  of  Knowledge.  —  The 
mechanic  does  not  bore  with  a  saw  nor  file  with  a 
hammer.  Our  store  of  knowledge  furnishes  our  tools 
for  thought.  We  cannot  judge  horses  by  our  knowledge 
of  Latin  grammar ;  nor  will  our  familiarity  with  French 
help  us  very  much  in  understanding  a  German  address. 
Hence,  whenever  we  offer  a  pupil  a  particle  of  knowl- 
edge, we  should  first  make  sure  that  this  bit  of  knowl- 
edge will  be  of  use  to  him  in  acquiring  other  knowledge 
of  which  he  stands  in  need.  While  gaining  an  educa- 
tion it  is  the  pupil's  business  to  prepare  for  complete 
living  by  acquiring  tools  for  every  great  department  of 
knowledge.  He  should  waste  no  time  on  worthless 
knowledge,  that  is,  knowledge  that  is  neither  useful 
in  itself,  nor  introductory  in  the  most  practical  way 
to  useful  knowledge.  This  condemns  at  once  the  one- 
sided grammatical  training  of  the  old  classical  course. 
Nor  does  the  old-fashioned  teaching  of  history  fare 
any  better.  In  the  life  of  the  ordinary  or  even  extraor- 
dinary American,  of  what  use  is  the  knowledge  of 
the  details  and  dates  of  the  Peloponnesian  war  or  the 
intrigues  of  the  court  of  Louis  XIV? 

THE  PLACE  OF  SCIENCE  IN  THE  SCHOOL  CURRICULUM 

Age  and  Stage.  —  It  is  a  truism  that  the  work  of  the 
pupil  should  be  suited  to  his  mental  development,  yet 


How  to  Teach  Science  277 

no  law  of  teaching  needs  more  repetition,  for  in  our 
anxiety  to  do  much,  we  almost  universally  give  the 
pupil  work  that  is  from  one  to  ten  years  in  advance 
of  his  ability. 

The  following  seems  to  us  a  fair  division  of  the  field 
for  education  in  the  sciences.  (Note  that  the  art,  the 
technique  of  civilization,  is  not  in  question  at  all  at 
this  point.)  The  emphasis  should  fall  on  the  substan- 
tive side  of  the  universe.  The  knowledge  of  man  and 
nature  should  get  the  lion's  share  of  the  time.  This 
means  social  science  and  natural  science.  Some  atten- 
tion should,  however,  be  paid  to  the  formal  side  of 
the  world  of  knowledge.  Mathematics  and  language 
should  receive  a  share,  but  a  smaller  share  than  the 
substantive  sciences. 

Classification  of  the  Sciences.  —  We  may  group  the 
sciences  as  follows :  — 

(a)  The  natural  sciences,  which  treat  of  the  real,  or  substantial, 
side  of  nature,  or  the  external  universe. 

(6)  Mathematics,  which  treats  of  the  formal  side  of  nature,  or 
the  external  universe,  and  includes  the  sciences  of  time  and  space. 

(c)  The  social  sciences   (including   history)    and   psychology, 
which  treat  of  man  as  an  individual  and  as  a  member  of  society, 
that  is,  of  spirit  (or  of  consciousness,  or  of  the  inner  universe)  on 
the  real  or  substantial  side. 

(d)  Logic  and  the  sciences  of  language   (philology,  grammar, 
etc.),  which  treat  of  the  formal  aspect  of  the  same  subject. 

(e)  Philosophy,  the  science  of  sciences,  which  deals  with  the 
postulates  of  the  other  sciences. 

THE  NATURAL  SCIENCES 

The  purpose  of  instruction  for  children  and  youth 
in  the  natural  sciences  is  to  give  the  pupil  (a)  some 


278         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

"  practically "  useful  knowledge,  as,  for  example,  of 
hygiene ;  but  mainly  (6)  a  broadened  intellectual  hori- 
zon, the  true  scientific  viewpoint,  and  the  modern 
attitude  toward  natural  phenomena.  He  will  not 
fancy  that  a  comet  predicts  war,  that  grain  must  be 
sown  during  a  certain  phase  of  the  moon,  or  that  the 
"  humors  "  (liquids)  of  the  body  determine  character. 

Outline  of  a  Course  in  the  Natural  Sciences 

For  Children :  — 
Nature  Study 

(The  elements  of  all  the  natural  sciences  taught  concretely 
in  connection  with  Geography  and  Hygiene,  many  ex- 
periments, mainly  performed  by  the  teacher) 

For  the  High  School:  — 

At  least  one  Biological  Science  in  addition  to  Physiology 
Physics 

(Mainly  descriptive,  only  slightly  mathematical)  . 
Chemistry 
Physiography 

Value  of  School  Laboratory  Work.  —  It  is  scarcely 
necessary  to  insist  on  the  laboratory,  as  its  importance 
is  conceded  on  every  hand.  But  the  reason  for  the 
laboratory  in  the  high  school  may  need  statement. 

Why  do  we  perform  experiments  at  all?  Because 
a  vivid,  clear,  and  complete  conception  of  any  scien- 
tific truth  is  the  great  desideratum  in  all  teaching  of 
science,  since  no  repetition  of  dim  and  confused  con- 
ceptions will  ever  result  in  a  clear  mental  grasp;  and 
because  a  vivid  and  complete  conception  is  never 
reached  so  expeditiously  and  certainly  as  by  handling 
the  thing  itself.  He  who  has  burned  a  watch  spring 


How  to  Teach  Science  279 

in  oxygen  has  a  living  knowledge  of  oxygen  that  no 
textbook  statement  can  give.  A  whiff  of  hydrogen 
sulphide  will  identify  that  gas  for  you  to  all  eternity. 
Rigging  up  and  running  an  amateur  telegraph  line  is 
an  easier  and  surer  way  of  understanding  the  telegraph 
than  listening  to  learned  lectures. 

Just  as  in  the  pedagogy  of  art  the  great  word  is 
repetition,  so  in  the  teaching  of  science  the  important 
principle  is  a  clear  and  distinct  conception;  and  our 
chief  means  for  acquiring  a  clear  and  distinct  concep- 
tion is  experimenting,  handling  the  thing  itself. 

MATHEMATICS 

Purpose.  —  The  practical  use  of  arithmetic  is  very 
great,  although  it  has  been  exaggerated  and  over- 
emphasized in  our  schools.  But  as  a  discipline  in  habits 
of  exact,  clear,  and  definite  thought  and  expression, 
the  study  of  mathematics  is  unexcelled.  Every  class 
in  mathematics  is  hence  also  a  class  in  language  and 
logic. 

Outline  of  a  Course  in  Mathematics 

For  Children:  — 

Number  Study  and  Inventional  Geometry 
(Much  drill  in  the  art  of  arithmetic   (see  Ch.  XXVIII), 
and  a  very  little  of  the  science  of  arithmetic) 

For  the  High  School :  — 

Elementary  Algebra  as  the  simpler  science,  first,  then : 
Scientific  Arithmetic 
Geometry 
Higher  Algebra 
Trigonometry 


280         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

THE  SOCIAL  SCIENCES 

Purpose.  —  To  know  men  and  society,  this  expresses 
the  purpose  the  pupil  should  have  in  studying  history 
and  the  other  social  sciences.  Herbert  Spencer  ob- 
serves that  history  as  philosophy-teaching  by  example 
is  a  failure.  Every  sect  and  creed  in  religion,  every 
form  of  government,  every  social  vagary,  has  appealed 
to  history  for  its  justification.  Able  and  brilliant  men 
defend  protection  by  the  "  teachings  of  history,"  but 
equally  able  and  brilliant  men  use  the  same  history  to 
prove  that  free  trade  alone  is  rational. 

It  is  true.  We  should  not  look  to  history  for  a  dog- 
matic statement  of  any  social  theory.  But  he  who  has 
studied  history  aright  has  become  better  acquainted 
with  men.  He  knows  their  foibles  and  weaknesses, 
their  ideals  and  aspirations.  Given  the  circumstances, 
he  knows  what  they  are  likely  to  do.  Tell  him  their 
deeds,  and  the  conditions  under  which  they  were  com- 
mitted, and  he  will  tell  you  their  motives.  Because 
he  knows  Caesar  and  Socrates,  Shakespeare  and  Glad- 
stone, the  Athenian  citizens,  the  Roman  gladiators, 
the  American  pioneers,  the  German  scholars,  and  the 
medieval  monks,  he  knows  his  next-door  neighbor 
better,  and  makes  a  better  neighbor.  Then,  how  it 
widens  his  intellectual  horizon !  How  much  richer, 
nobler,  and  more  worth  while  is  the  world  possessed  by 
him  who  is  acquainted  with  the  great  drama  of  man, 
than  the  petty  and  narrow  circle  of  thought  that  im- 
prisons him  who  is  ignorant  of  history ! 

Nor  is  this  all.  Man  as  a  man,  as  an  individual, 
does  not  exhaust  history.  It  also  —  and  indeed  that 


How  to  Teach  Science  281 

is  its  greatest  work  —  acquaints  us  with  society,  the 
institutions  of  civilization.  Organized  society,  what 
a  mighty  thought !  Ail  that  makes  us  better  than  the 
beasts  of  the  field  is  included  in  this  word.  All  the 
divinity  of  man  is  there.  It  is  indeed  no  small  thing 
to  get  acquainted  with  the  social,  the  institutional  life 
of  man.  The  true  study  of  history  is  the  only  source 
of  inspiration  for  intelligent  philanthropy  and  rational 
patriotism.  Only  this  makes  us  truly  human,  or  hu- 
mane. And  in  spite  of  the  strictures  of  Herbert  Spen- 
cer, the  true  study  of  history  does  save  us  from  many  a 
social  heresy.  It  is  safe  to  say  that  three  fourths  of  the 
social  nostrums  proclaimed  by  cranks,  charlatans,  and 
pot-hunting  politicians  never  gain  any  adherents  from 
those  who  have  studied  history  to  some  purpose. 

Outline  of  a  Course  in  the  Social  Sciences 

For  Children:  — 
History 

(This  should  be  taught  incidentally  by  stories  told  to  the 
pupils  by  the  teacher,  by  supplementary  reading,  and 
literature.  The  material  should  be  mainly  biographical, 
and  should  not  be  confined  to  American  history.  In  the 
seventh  and  eighth  grades,  the  use  of  textbooks  may 
profitably  be  begun.  Civics  may  be  taught  incidentally. 
Let  it  connect  with  the  daily  life  and  surroundings  of  the 
pupil.) 
Ethics 

(Every  lesson  in  school,  the  personality  of  the  teacher,  and 
the  whole  institution  of  the  school  should  be  and  can  be 
an  efficient  course  in  this  subject.) 
Good  Manners 

(These  are  also  best  taught  indirectly.     But  in  this  subject, 
individual  instruction  as  occasion  offers  is  also  needed.) 


282         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

For  the  High  School :  — 

Ancient  and  Medieval  History 

(A  short  course) 
History  of  Modern  Europe 

(This  course  should  be  twice  as  long  as  the  preceding,  and 
emphasis  should  be  placed  on  the  history  since  the  French 
Revolution.) 
American  History 

(This  should  come  last  of  the  historical  studies,  to  insure 

ripeness  of  mind  in  the  pupil.) 
Civics,  or  Politics 
Psychology 
Economics 
Ethics  and  Law 

(It  is  questionable  whether  it  is  wise  to  have  separate  classes 
in  ethics,  law,  and  psychology.  Sometimes  it  may  be  pos- 
sible to  find  a  place  in  the  high  school  curriculum  for  one 
or  two  of  them;  but  usually  we  must  be  satisfied  with 
teaching  them  incidentally.) 

THE  SCIENCES  OF  LANGUAGE 

Again  we  must  repeat  the  warning :  scientific  thought 
is  not  for  children.  And  of  all  science,  none  is  less 
suited  for  children  than  linguistic  science.  The  subject 
matter  is  so  abstract,  so  formal,  so  elusive,  and  so  far 
removed  from  the  regions  of  the  child's  natural  habits 
of  thought  that  he  has  normally  no  interest  in  it. 

However,  if  care  is  taken  to  make  the  work  concrete, 
if  all  abstract  reasoning  and  definitions  are  shunned, 
a  very  little  of  the  elements  of  linguistic  science  may  be 
profitably  taught  to  children.  The  interest,  to  be  sure, 
must  be  artificial  and  not  natural,  but  there  is  no  reason 
to  believe  that  all  artificial  interest  is  harmful.  The 
great  danger  is,  however,  that  time  may  be  taken  away 
from  more  suitable  subjects.  Hence,  just  as  we  have 


How  to  Teach  Science  283 

nature  study  and  number  study  and  historical  study 
(social  study),  we  may  also  have  language  study  for 
children. 

Here  are  some  suggested  topics,  with  the  warning 
that  any  great  extension  of  the  field  is  dangerous :  — 
Sentence,  subject,  predicate,  direct  object,  parts  of 
speech,  the  paragraph,  some  figures  of  speech,  different 
classes  of  style,  rhyme  and  rhythm,  vowel  and  con- 
sonant. 

The  art  of  language  is  quite  another  matter,  and  will 
be  discussed  in  the  next  chapter.  Every  class  should 
be  a  class  in  language.  Childhood  is  the  time  for  ac- 
quiring the  art  of  language. 

Outline  of  a  Course  in  the  Sciences  of  Language 

For  Children :  — 

The  Art  of  Language  in  every  grade  and  recitation  (See  Ch. 

XXVIII.) 

A  very  little  of  the  Science  of  Language,  Grammar 
(Taught  as  concretely  as  possible) 

For  the  High  School :  — 
Etymology 

Grammar  (Of  several  languages) 
Rhetoric 

THE  TEACHER  AND  THE  PUPIL 

The  Teacher's  Duty.  —  In  teaching  any  science,  make 
everything  as  plain  as  possible.  Put  no  artificial  ob- 
stacle in  the  path  of  the  pupil.  No  gymnasium  exer- 
cises in  thinking  need  be  invented.  There  is  enough 
productive  mental  toil  to  give  the  pupil  all  the  exercise 
he  needs.  But  be  sure  that  the  pupil  thinks.  Let  the 
pupil  tell  the  part  of  the  subject  that  he  knows  and 
what  he  can  infer  of  the  yet  unknown. 


284         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Get  acquainted  with  the  extent  and  organization  of 
your  pupil's  store  of  knowledge.  That  is,  find  out  what 
he  knows  and  from  what  corner  he  looks  on  the  world. 
Only  then  can  you  tell  what  mental  food  is  good  for 
him. 

Demand  the  best  of  your  pupil :  the  clearest  ideas, 
the  widest  grasp  of  relations,  the  vividest  conceptions 
of  which  he  is  capable. 

The  Pupil's  Duty.  —  No  one  can  think  for  a  pupil. 
The  teacher  should  think  before  him,  but  the  teacher 
cannot  think  for  him.  In  history,  for  example,  he 
ought  to  find  many  whys  and  wherefores  not  developed 
in  the  text.  He  ought  to  find  reasons  for  disagreeing 
with  the  text  at  times.  In  natural  science  his  obser- 
vation and  reasoning  ought  to  find  much  more  than  is 
set  down  in  his  textbooks.  The  teacher  should  require 
this  independent  work  of  the  pupils  and  stimulate  it 
by  appropriate  questions  and  demands.  Mere  worry- 
bobbing  and  guessing  bees,  however,  are  of  no  value ; 
but  on  the  contrary  a  waste  of  time  and  energy. 

Exercises 

1.  Up  to  the  present  time  how  much  of  the  geography  that  you 
studied  in  school  has  been  of  practical  use  to  you  ? 

2.  After  the  teacher  has  explained  a  point  hi  algebra,  how  can 
he  find  out  if  the  pupil  followed  him  and  did  his  own  thinking  ? 
In  history  ?    In  botany  ? 

Criticise  the  following  method : 

3.  Teacher,  concluding  an  exposition:  "That  is  so;  isn't  it?" 
Vigorous  nods  by  class. 

4.  How  would  you  teach  the  multiplication  table  ? 


CHAPTER  XXVIII 

HOW   TO    TEACH   AN    ART 

A  FALLACY  OF  EDUCATIONAL  THEORY 

THERE  is  an  educational  fallacy,  and  a  most  deep- 
seated  one,  upon  which  much  of  the  practical  school 
work  of  to-day  rests.  This  fallacy  is :  We  must  first 
know  before  we  can  do.  We  mistakenly  suppose  that 
the  logical  order  is :  first,  a  clear  intellectual  view  of  the 
whole  subject,  its  whys  and  wherefores,  its  relations, 
reasons,  and  causes ;  then,  a  practical  ability  to  do,  to 
make,  to  produce  that  which  we  thoroughly  understand. 
Furthermore,  it  is  assumed  that  if  the  intellectual  view 
is  perfect,  the  practical  ability  is  as  good  as  acquired. 

The  opposite  is  in  most  cases  the  truth.  First  do 
and  then  know.  The  illustrations  are  innumerable.  We 
breathe  long  before  we  know  why  we  do  so.  If  we  didn't, 
we  should  never  find  out  the  necessity  of  it.  We  eat 
before  we  study  the  physiology  of  nutrition ;  we  walk 
before  we  know  the  mechanics  of  the  lever  or  the  physics 
of  stable  equilibrium;  we  talk  before  we  know  gram- 
mar; we  speak  the  truth  and  abhor  a  lie  before  we 
know  any  theory  of  ethics  to  justify  such  behavior; 
we  see  before  we  know  anything  of  the  mechanics  of 
the  eye  or  the  science  of  optics. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  great  military  theorist  may  be 
a  very  poor  general ;  one  may  know  the  whole  science 
of  music  and  not  be  able  to  sing  or  play ;  a  knowledge  of 

285 


286         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

physics  will  never  teach  a  person  to  ride  a  bicycle ;  one 
may  know  Latin  grammar  and  not  know  Latin ;  an 
expert  in  psychology,  pedagogy,  methods,  and  the  his- 
tory of  education  may  still  be  an  abominably  poor 
teacher. 

There  is  no  intention  of  denying  that  in  most  cases 
the  knowledge  of  the  science  is  of  value  in  acquiring 
the  art.  Other  things  being  equal,  he  who  knows  the 
theory  of  education  ought  to  be  a  better  teacher  than 
he  who  does  not.  In  some  cases,  it  may  even  be  ab- 
solutely necessary  to  know  a  little  of  the  science  before 
the  art  can  be  attained  at  all. 

But  this  is  asserted  with  all  possible  emphasis : 
The  knowledge  of  the  science  never  gives  skill  in  the 
corresponding  art.  The  only  way  to  learn  an  art  is  to 
practice  that  art  itself.  Fit  faber  fabricando. 

Perfection  in  an  art  is  attainable  only  by  much  rep- 
etition. The  only  way  to  learn  the  multiplication 
table  is  to  repeat  the  multiplication  table.  The  one 
method  of  learning  division  is  to  divide.  If  that  does 
not  help,  divide  some  more.  After  you  know  enough  of 
the  "  science  "  of  division  to  know  how  to  proceed,  the 
only  thing  that  will  make  you  a  better  divider  is  to 
divide.  Don't  waste  time  reading  about  division.  A 
deeper  insight  into  the  science  of  division  will  not  help 
one  whit  in  making  you  a  rapid  or  accurate  divider. 
If  you  don't  know  a  solitary  reason  why  you  do  as  you 
do  in  division,  this  does  not  matter  as  far  as  your 
quotients  are  concerned. 

The  only  way  to  learn  French  is  to  speak  and  read 
French.  A  slight  smattering  of  grammar  aids  you  in 
translation;  but  do  not  delude  yourself  by  thinking 


How  to  Teach  an  Art  287 

that  the  study  of  French  grammar  has  taught  you 
French.  You  have  to  repeat  every  French  word  just 
about  so  many  times  before  you  know  it;  and  every 
phrase  or  expression  must  be  given  the  same  treatment, 
even  if  you  know  every  word  of  which  it  is  composed. 
Repetition,  and  repetition  only,  will  put  you  in  pos- 
session of  a  new  language.  Reading  about  French  in 
another  language  will  never  bring  you  one  step  nearer 
your  goal. 

The  correct  order  is :  first,  the  language,  then  its 
grammar;  first,  computation  (the  four  elementary 
"  rules  "),  the  art  of  arithmetic,  then  the  science  of 
arithmetic;  first,  literature,  then  the  philosophy  and 
history  of  literature;  first,  practice  in  composition, 
then  the  science  of  rhetoric;  first,  the  art  of  rational 
thinking,  then  logic,  the  science  of  thinking.  I  have  no 
wish  to  deny  that  often  it  is  best  to  sandwich  art  and 
science  in  the  learning.  Thus,  there  is  no  heresy  in 
mixing  grammar  and  language  practice. 

EDUCATION  IN  SCIENCE  AND  IN  ART  CONTRASTED 

Education  into  Consciousness.  —  Education  in  a 
science  is  education  into  consciousness;  education  in 
an  art  is  education  out  of  consciousness.  The  first 
assertion  needs  no  elucidation.  A  boy  is  educated  in 
botany  when  his  mind  is  enriched  with  botanical  con- 
cepts, and  the  symptom  that  his  education  "  takes  " 
is  that  now  he  has  fuller,  richer,  and  truer  ideas  of  the 
plant  world  than  he  had  before.  When  he  thinks  of  a 
gentian  or  a  clover  blossom,  he  has  much  more  in  his 
consciousness  than  he  who  is  ignorant  of  the  science  of 
botany. 


288         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Education  out  of  Consciousness.  —  But  in  reference 
to  an  art,  the  exact  opposite  obtains.  When  a  beginner 
tortures  a  piano,  her  head  is  full  of  notes  and  flats  and 
sharps  and  fingers  and  keys  and  "  one-two-three  "  and 
pedals  and  expression  and  touch.  When  a  master 
plays,  his  consciousness  is  free  from  all  this.  He  thinks 
only  of  the  music  he  wishes  to  produce,  and  the  brain 
grooves  do  the  rest.  If  we  have  to  think  how  to  spell 
a  word,  we  don't  know  how  to  spell  it.  We  never  think 
of  the  forms  of  letters  when  we  write;  but  the  child 
beginning  to  learn  is  painfully  conscious  of  every  curve. 
The  experienced  accountant  glances  up  a  column  of 
figures  and  has  the  sum  with  scarcely  any  thinking; 
while  the  novice  expends  much  cogitation  on  the  same 
operation. 

When  an  art  is  perfectly  known,  it  is  performed 
mechanically,  that  is,  without  any  conscious  direction 
from  the  mind.  Hence  we  progress  in  our  education 
in  an  art  in  proportion  as  we  perform  its  operations 
with  less  and  less  thought.  The  more  of  a  "  thought- 
less, parrot-like  performance  "  an  art  becomes,  the  more 
completely  it  is  mastered. 

But  the  sum  and  substance,  the  alpha  and  omega, 
the  core  and  essence,  of  all  education  in  the  arts,  is 
repetition,  practice,  drill,  doing  the  thing  itself  over  and 
over  again. 

THE  PLACE  OF    THE    CULTURE    AND    ARTS    OF    CIVILIZA- 
TION IN  THE  SCHOOL  CURRICULUM 

All  that  is  taught  is  either  an  art  or  a  science 
or  both.  As  the  method  of  teaching  an  art  is 
radically  different  from  that  of  teaching  a  science,  it 


How  to  Teach  an  Art  289 

is  worth  while  to  distinguish   carefully  between  arts 
and  sciences. 

The  arts  that  should  be   taught  to  children   and 
youths  may  be  classified  as  follows :  — 

Intellectual  Arts 

Computation  (the  art  of  arithmetic) 

Spelling  (strictly  one  of  the  language  arts) 

The  Business  Arts  (bookkeeping,  typewriting,  and  shorthand) 

The  Mechanical  Memory  Elements  in  all  subjects 

Arts  that  are  in  about  the  same  degree  Intellectual  and  ^Esthetic 
Languages 
Composition 
Literature 
The  Dramatic  Arts 

^Esthetic  Arts 

Drawing  and  Painting 
Sculpture  and  Other  Plastic  Arts 
Music 

Moral  and  Social  Arts 
Training  in  Moral  Habits 
Training  in  Good  Manners 

Manual  and  Other  Physical  Arts 
Penmanship 
Manual  Training 
Elementary  Agriculture 
Domestic  Economy 
Physical  Training 
Athletics 

THE  INTELLECTUAL  ARTS 

The  art  of  computation  in  arithmetic  and  the  me 
chanical  memory  element  in  other  subjects  have  already 
been  touched  upon  in  this  chapter ;  and  brief  mention 
will  be  made  of  the  business  arts  in  the  next.    A  few 


290         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

remarks  on  the  teaching  of  spelling,  however,  may  not 
be  amiss  at  this  point. 

Spelling.  —  Use  no  rules ;  English  spelling  is  too 
irrational  to  be  benefited  by  rules.  Besides,  the  art  of 
spelling  as  an  art,  is  not  a  science.  An  art  is  not  learned 
by  learning  the  corresponding  science. 

Spelling  ought  chiefly  to  be  learned  incidentally. 
Every  lesson  is  a  spelling  lesson.  In  history  and  geog- 
raphy every  new  word  arrived  at  should  be  spelled  as 
well  as  pronounced  by  the  pupil.  Much  written  work 
should  be  required  of  pupils,  and  every  written  exercise 
is  at  the  same  time  a  spelling  exercise.  Many  teachers 
have  this  practice :  They  correct  the  pupil's  papers,  and 
return  them  to  him,  and  that  is  the  end  of  it.  This  is  a 
mistake.  The  pupil  should  be  required  to  rewrite  the 
exercise  correctly.  Sometimes  it  may  be  too  much  to 
require  the  pupil  to  rewrite  the  whole  exercise ;  but  the 
mistakes  should  all  be  corrected  by  the  pupil. 

English  spelling  is  so  difficult  and  our  school  condi- 
tions so  far  from  ideal,  that  as  yet  the  spelling  class  is 
generally  a  necessity.  Just  how  much  or  how  little  is 
necessary  in  each  school,  each  teacher  must  decide  for 
himself.  That  writing  is  the  most  effective  way  of 
studying  and  reciting  spelling  is  self-evident,  since  our 
practical  use  of  spelling  comes  only  in  writing.  Still, 
for  the  sake  of  variety,  an  occasional  oral  recitation 
may  be  tolerated. 

THE  INTELLECTUAL  AND  JESTHETIC  ARTS 

Language.  —  Language  is,  so  to  speak,  the  atmos- 
phere of  our  intellectual  and  aesthetic  world.  Its 
importance  can  hardly  be  overestimated.  English,  our 


How  to  Teach  an  Art  291 

national  language,  is  the  indispensable  subject  of  in- 
struction in  our  schools.  No  innovator  has  yet  pro- 
posed its  removal  from  the  curriculum,  which  in 
itself  is  high  testimony  to  its  importance.  Every  class 
in  the  school  should  be  a  class  in  the  art  of  using  the 
English  language. 

Other  languages  should  not  be  neglected,  but  they  are. 
The  United  States  and  England  are  the  only  enlightened 
nations  in  the  world  in  which  a  speaking  knowledge  of 
at  least  two  languages  is  not  common  among  cultured 
people.  The  finest,  most  volatile,  most  evanescent 
element  of  culture  is  preserved  in  its  language.  This 
is  the  element  that  cannot  be  translated,  and  it  is  also 
the  most  precious  element  because  it  so  exquisitely 
expresses  the  inmost  soul.  The  "  natural  method  "  is 
the  only  method  of  teaching  language  that  is  scien- 
tifically defensible. 

Literature.  —  Literature  is  the  greatest  of  all  the 
fine  arts,  and  in  spite  of  the  prominent  position  it  oc- 
cupies in  almost  every  school  curriculum,  it  has  not  yet 
achieved  the  place  in  the  schools  to  which  it  is  entitled. 

There  is  now  a  body  of  real,  classic  literature  for 
children,  and  it  is  increased  every  year.  But  in  our 
schools  we  still  have  too  much  of  the  "  Horses-can-run  " 
reading  material. 

Oratory,  or  spoken  literature,  though  not  as  lasting 
as  letters,  has  a  power  and  charm  wholly  its  own,  which 
is  well  worth  the  seeking. 

Some  Remarks  on  the  Pedagogy  of  Literature.  — 
Teachers  should  not  shoot  over  the  heads  of  pupils. 
Girls  in  short  dresses  are  often  fed  on  Milton's  "  Para- 
dise Lost,"  and  boys  whose  thoughts  center  on  the  foot- 


292         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

ball  ground,  are  bidden  to  seek  solace  for  their  aspiring 
souls  in  Browning.  Such  great  masterpieces  had  better 
be  unread  than  presented  at  that  early  stage  of  the 
pupil's  education.  Feed  babes  on  milk! 

Some  teachers  seem  to  think  that  the  study  of  lit- 
erature consists  in  finding  the  author  infallible,  and 
praising  him  for  anything  and  everything.  A  slight 
adaptation  of  the  well-known  "  sermon "  on  "  Old 
Mother  Hubbard  "  illustrates  this  method.  "  '  To  get 
the  poor  dog  a  bone.'  Ah,  the  pathetic  simplicity 
of  that  epithet  poor!  What  a  sensitive,  humane  soul 
our  author  must  have  had,  to  feel  so  deeply  and  express 
so  exquisitely  his  sympathy  with  the  lower  creation! 
How  this  word  of  four  letters  puts  the  whole  scene 
before  us,  as  it  were,  in  a  nutshell ;  so  much  better  than 
whole  sermons  could  have  done.  And  notice  the 
author's  self-restraint.  While  his  heart  was  breaking 
for  that '  poor  dog '  —  ah,  the  perfection  of  that  expres- 
sion !  —  he  does  not  allow  his  sense  of  artistic  propor- 
tion to  be  dimmed,  but  limits  himself  with  heroic  self- 
restraint  to  one  adjective.  Less  perfect  authors  would 
—  etc."  Depend  on  it,  the  pupils  see  through  this 
unconscious  insincerity. 

A  piece  of  literature  is  a  thought  complex,  and  as  such 
must  be  studied  as  other  thought  subjects;  but  it  is 
also  a  work  of  art,  and  as  such  it  is  the  expression  of  the 
whole  of  the  human  soul  in  one  of  its  moods,  or  emotions. 
It  is  not  the  expression  of  the  emotion  simply,  it  is  the 
expression  of  the  whole  person  as  affected  or  dominated 
by  that  emotion.  Like  every  work  of  art,  it  must  be 
studied  synthetically. 

Here  is  where  much  teaching  of  literature  fails.    It 


How  to  Teach  an  Art  293 

is  analysis  from  beginning  to  end.  One  or  two  dramas 
of  Shakespeare  ground  into  grammatical  fragments, 
half  a  dozen  other  representative  selections  from  as 
many  authors,  all  reduced  to  literary  macadam  —  this 
is  often  called  "  a  liberal  course  in  English  literature !  " 
Paragraphs,  sentences,  words  are  mercilessly  cut  to 
pieces.  There  are  notes  and  dissertations  on  a  semi- 
colon or  a  syllable.  All  sorts  of  extraneous  erudition 
is  introduced,  such  as  mythology,  archaeology,  and  bio- 
graphical gossip.  All  of  this  is  well  enough  in  its  place. 
This  analytical  study  is  the  due  of  literature  as  a  scien- 
tific subject.  But  after  the  analytical  study  is  completed, 
the  unit  of  literature  should  be  studied  as  a  whole,  as  a 
work  of  art.  It  should  not  only  be  understood,  it  should 
be  enjoyed.  Thus,  it  will  produce  not  only  learning, 
but  culture. 

Elementary  study  of  literature  should  be  extensive 
rather  than  intensive.  One  Madonna  of  the  masters 
may  contain  more  than  your  pupil  of  painting  can  ever 
get  on  the  canvas,  but  that  is  no  reason  why  the  student 
should  copy  that  Madonna  to  the  end  of  his  days.  For 
the  high  school,  one  thoughtful  reading  of  a  literary 
masterpiece  with  just  enough  impedimenta  of  explana- 
tory notes  to  make  the  meaning  complete  and  clear 
is  all  that  is  necessary  and  valuable. 

A  Few  Rides  for  Teachers  of  Literature.  —  Be  sure 
that  the  literature  selected  is  not  above  the  ability  and 
interest  of  your  pupils. 

Let  them  read  much.  In  the  high  school,  twenty 
pages  a  day  is  rather  too  little  than  too  much. 

Avoid  all  pedantry  and  trifling  in  notes  and  discus- 
sion. Aim  at  giving  the  pupils  a  clear  conception  of 


294         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

the  purpose  of  the  author.  Waste  no  time  on  by- 
paths. 

To  make  literature  a  culture  study,  do  not  stop  after 
having  studied  it  analytically.  When  a  selection  has 
been  thus  studied,  then  is  the  time  to  read  it  for  pure 
enjoyment. 

Study  modern  authors  first,  and  when  the  pupils  are 
more  mature,  you  can  venture  with  them  to  literature 
of  ages  that  differ  much  from  our  own  in  thought  and 
feeling. 

Composition.  —  Composition  is  an  important  ele- 
ment in  a  literary  education.  It  is  the  art  of  producing 
literature,  and  should  be  studied  by  the  average  student 
for  two  reasons :  (a)  for  its  value  as  a  practical  art,  to 
express  thought  and  feeling  in  the  ordinary  business  of 
life ;  and  (6)  for  its  value  as  a  fine  art,  to  express  lit- 
erary beauty.  This,  however,  not  for  the  purpose  of 
producing  immortal  works  of  art,  but  to  acquire  the 
ability  to  enjoy  literature. 

Dramatic  Art.  —  Dramatic  art  may  be  considered  a 
sort  of  climax  of  the  fine  arts.  As  an  art  in  the  narrower 
sense  of  the  word,  it  has  no  place  in  any  but  professional 
education ;  but  for  its  cultural  value  every  school  should 
teach  it.  That  is,  we  should  teach  our  pupils  how  to 
enjoy  and  understand  dramatic  representations. 

THE  ESTHETIC  ARTS 

America  has  been  notoriously  tardy  in  aesthetic 
development.  The  great  maj ority  of  us  never  spend  one 
serious  moment  in  the  pursuit  of  the  beautiful.  When 
we  get  rich  and  decide  to  acquire  culture  with  our  new 
social  position,  we  go  to  Europe,  buy  paintings  war- 


How  to  Teach  an  Art  295 

ranted  to  be  genuine,  and  think  we  have  a  love  for  the 
fine  arts.  We  yawn  through  Italian  operas  of  which  we 
understand  neither  the  words  nor  the  music,  just  to 
show  that  we  are  aesthetic.  (But  when  we  really  want 
fun,  we  go  to  a  football  contest  or  a  minstrel  show.) 

A  few  of  us  take  this  matter  seriously  —  very  seri- 
ously. We  try  to  force  the  plant  of  taste  by  hothouse 
methods.  Thoroughly  distrusting  ourselves,  we  dare 
not  have  an  aesthetic  opinion  of  our  own,  but  meekly 
subscribe  to  what  the  authorities  tell  us  is  beautiful. 

Drawing  and  Painting.  —  Though  children,  and  par- 
ticularly boys,  have  only  a  very  rudimentary  apprecia- 
tion of  the  beautiful,  still  they  can  begin  early  to  acquire 
the  manual,  vocal,  and  sense  skill  —  the  art  —  neces- 
sary to  bring  beauty  into  their  lives.  A  child  can  profit- 
ably begin  to  learn  to  draw  two  or  three  years  earlier 
than  he  learns  to  read  and  write.  The  pupil  should  be 
allowed  to  color  his  drawings  from  the  first.  Painting 
is  not  sacred  to  adults.  Children  ought  early  to  be 
taught  to  see  colors ;  and  painting  is  the  best  method 
of  teaching  colors.  They  should  not  be  required  to 
draw  and  paint  unless  they  have  something  to  draw 
and  paint,  and  some  reason  for  picturing  it.  When  they 
reproduce  stories,  they  should  illustrate  them.  When 
they  study  a  plant  or  an  animal,  they  should  draw  it. 
They  will  be  delighted  to  illustrate  their  reading  les- 
sons. 

In  this,  as  in  every  other  art,  exactness  should  not  be 
required  of  children.  Children  have  a  right  to  be  in- 
exact, to  blunder,  to  make  daubs  and  scrawls.  But  the 
teacher  should  require  constant  progress  toward  exact- 
ness. In  order  to  do  this  intelligently,  it  is  necessary 


296         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

for  the  teacher  to  know  the  exact  attainment  of 
each  pupil ;  for  what  would  be  commendable  progress 
in  one  may  be  mere  carelessness  and  listlessness  in 
another. 

Music.  —  The  time  to  teach  the  elements  of  both 
instrumental  and  vocal  music  is  childhood,  and  the 
place  should  be  the  public  schools.  Very  few  people 
are  unable  to  learn  to  sing,  if  drill  is  begun  in 
childhood. 

The  Fine  Arts  as  Culture.  —  The  technique  of  draw- 
ing, painting,  modeling,  and  music  should  be  taught  to 
some  degree  in  our  schools ;  but  the  emphasis  should  be 
placed  on  the  culture  element.  The  pupil  should  be 
trained  to  appreciate  and  enjoy  the  beautiful  in  these 
forms  of  art. 

As  culture  the  fine  arts  have  a  wider  mission  than  as 
art.  Few  can  become  artists  in  music,  painting,  sculp- 
ture, or  acting,  but  all  should  learn  to  appreciate  and 
enjoy  art. 

In  music  practically  nothing  has  been  done  in  our 
schools  to  teach  appreciation.  Many  graduates  from 
conservatories  do  not  enjoy  the  very  compositions  they 
are  playing,  but  become  animated  automatons  who 
enjoy  only  their  own  mastery  of  the  technique.  But 
appreciation  of  music  can  be  taught.  Tell  the  learner 
what  to  listen  for.  Sandwich  music  and  explanation. 
Give  the  theory  and  the  mechanics  of  different  musical 
compositions,  play  them  in  sections,  with  explanations 
between,  and  finish  by  playing  the  whole  selection. 

Children  should  early  be  taught  to  appreciate  paint- 
ing and  sculpture.  The  mood  of  the  artist,  his  peculiar 
social  and  intellectual  environment,  and  his  purpose 


How  to  Teach  an  Art  297 

should  be  clearly  before  the  pupil.  Thus,  to  under- 
stand Greek  art,  let  us  look  at  the  frieze  of  the  Par- 
thenon. Cast  away  your  theological,  philosophical, 
and  social  speculations,  and  look  at  it  as  the  Greeks  did, 
as  the  spectacle  of  the  perfect  animal.  Then  you 
will  begin  to  understand  the  poetry  of  motion,  the  joy 
of  full,  free,  and  healthy  muscularity,  the  intoxication 
of  oxygenized  blood  in  cool,  exulting  limb,  and  crisp- 
pulsing  heart. 

Good  Taste.  —  We  have  no  name  for  that  fine  art 
which  clings  closer  to  the  individual  than  any  other, 
and  which  more  definitely  than  anything  else  stamps  its 
possessor  as  cultured.  We  mean  the  display  of  good 
taste  in  dress,  home,  and  everyday  surroundings.  But 
to  impart  this  culture  is  one  of  the  great  objects  of 
education.  This  art  is  learned  by  imitation,  mostly  un- 
conscious. 

SOCIAL  CULTURE 

Not  long  ago  the  scholar  was  supposed  to  be  a  recluse 
from  society.  This  was  not  good  either  for  the  scholar 
or  for  society.  A  very  important  art  is  this  of  getting 
along  with  the  minimum  of  friction  and  the  maximum 
of  enjoyment  with  our  fellow  men.  Perhaps  it  is  not 
a  school  study.  Perhaps  it  is  best  "  picked  up  "  as 
occasion  offers.  Certainly  very  few,  if  any,  set  lessons 
should  be  given  on  this  subject  in  our  schools.  But  we 
should  preach  by  our  practice. 

Social  culture  cannot  be  acquired  by  reading  about 
it,  talking  about  it,  or  speculating  about  it.  Culture 
is  an  art,  and  like  every  other  art  it  comes  only  by  prac- 
tice, drill,  and  tireless  though  tiresome  repetition. 


298         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Outline  of  a  Course  in  the  Arts  for  Elementary  Schools 

Computation 

(Accuracy  and  reasonable  speed  in  addition,   subtraction, 
multiplication,  and  division  of  integers  and  fractions) 

The  English  Language 
(Speaking,  reading,  spelling,  and  composition) 

One  or  More  Languages  in  addition  to  English 
(Taught  by  the  natural  method,  mainly  orally) 

Literature 

(That  the  child  can  and  should  appreciate) 

Music 

(Singing,  note  reading,  and  the  rudiments  of  the  art  of  play- 
ing some  musical  instrument) 

Drawing,  Painting,  and  Clay-modeling 
Penmanship 

Manual  Training 

(In  woodwork  [sloydj) 

Elementary  Agriculture 

Domestic  Economy 
(For  girls) 

Physical  Culture 

Training  in  Manners  and  Morals 

Outline  of  a  Course  in  the  Arts  for  the  High  Schools 

English  Language  and  Literature 

Two  at  least  of  the  following :  — 
German  Language  and  Literature 
French  Language  and  Literature 
Other  Modern  Languages  and  Literature 
Latin  Language  and  Literature 
Greek  Language  and  Literature 


How  to  Teach  an  Art  299 

Music 

(With  the  emphasis  on  learning  to  appreciate  music) 

Drawing  and  Painting 
(To  teach  the  pupil  to  understand  and  enjoy  art) 

Manual  Training 
Elementary  Agriculture 

Domestic  Economy 
(For  girls) 

Bookkeeping  and  Typewriting 
Physical  Culture 

Athletics 
(Including  outdoor  sports) 

Social  Culture 
Moral  Training 

Exercises 

x.  What  portion  of  the  time  you  devote  to  the  study  of  Latin 
is  spent  in  studying  Latin,  and  what  portion  to  studying  about 
Latin? 

2.  Should  a  pupil-teacher  study  methods  first  or  do  practice- 
teaching  first  ? 

3.  Why  is  it  not  wise  to  call  the  attention  of  a  class  to  a  mis- 
spelled word  on  the  blackboard  ? 

4.  Name  an  English  classic  suitable  for  use  in  the  first  grade ;  in 
the  fifth  grade ;  in  the  eighth  grade. 

5.  Would  you  teach  your  pupils  to  sing  first  by  note  or  by  rote  ? 


CHAPTER  XXIX 
THE   PEDAGOGY   OF   TECHNICAL   HABITS 

SINCE  the  downfall  of  Greek  civilization,  the  right  of 
hands  and  feet  to  an  education  has  not  been  recognized 
by  society  until  our  day.  That  the  whole  body  has  a 
right  to  training,  to  civilization,  is  so  self-evident  that 
it  should  need  no  defense. 


The  Neglect  of  Physical  Education  in  the  Past.  — 
It  is  disturbing  to  think  that  until  our  day,  and  yet  to 
a  great  extent,  for  that  matter,  learned  minds  were 
allowed  to  sojourn  in  perfectly  uncultured,  almost 
imbecile,  bodies.  The  professor,  or  doctor  of  divinity 
of  fifty  years  ago,  had,  stuck  into  his  long  coat,  a  skele- 
ton with  appurtenances  that  barely  knew  how  to  exist. 
It  was  an  idiot's  body.  He  could  walk  after  a  fashion, 
and  push  food  into  his  mouth  in  some  way,  and  tie  a 
cravat  —  and  that  was  all. 

Well,  why  not  ?  These  men  had  specialized  in  other 
kinds  of  culture.  They  had  not  time  to  educate  the 
muscles.  Had  not  they  as  good  right  to  be  ignorant 
of  skating  and  whittling  as  the  mechanic  to  be  ignorant 
of  the  Odes  of  Horace  ? 

The  Value  of  Physical  Education.  —  Let  us  see  what 
they  lost.  First,  they  sacrificed  health.  A  certain 

300 


The  Pedagogy  of  Technical  Habits          301 

amount  of  exercise  and  oxygen  are  necessary  for  the 
health  of  the  human  system.  It  is,  of  course,  possible 
to  get  exercise  and  air  without  systematic  training  of 
the  muscles ;  but  there  is  no  reason  why  we  should  not 
kill  two  birds  with  one  stone. 

Furthermore,  it  is  impossible  to  think  perfectly 
without  trained  and  experienced  muscles;  for  one 
thinks  with  his  whole  body.  When  you  imagine  viv- 
idly an  army  charging,  there  is  a  distinct  sensation  of 
marching  in  your  legs.  Now,  if  you  have  never 
marched  and  don't  know  how  to  march,  the  twitching 
in  your  members  will  bear  very  little  resemblance  to 
the  real  experience.  You  cannot  imagine  a  charging 
army  and  get  life  into  your  thoughts.  "  Stem  the  tide  " 
means  very  little  to  him  who  has  not  forced  a  skiff 
against  a  brisk  current.  The  boy  who  has  sawed, 
planed,  and  whittled  oak,  can  appreciate  what  is  meant 
by  "  heart  of  oak  "  better  than  he  to  whom  oak  is  just 
three  letters  of  the  alphabet.  The  human  being  is  a 
unit.  Other  things  being  equal,  he  who  can  shoot 
straight  can  think  straighter  than  he  who  is  a  poor 
marksman. 

Physiologically,  we  really  do  not  train  the  hand  by 
manual  training,  but  the  nerve  centers  that  control 
the  hand.  Psychologically,  skill,  even  of  the  fingers 
and  toes,  resides  not  in  the  body  but  in  the  mind.  The 
investigations  of  physiological  psychology  have  shown 
that  in  all  probability  the  same  event  takes  place  in  the 
brain  when  we  think  of  an  action  as  when  we  actually 
do  it.  The  only  difference  is  that  in  the  former  case 
the  neural  current  is  inhibited  before  it  reaches  the 
muscles.  Hence  thought  is  abortive  action.  From 


302         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

this  it  is  plain  that  the  mind  is  not  fully  educated  until 
it  is  in  a  trained  body. 

To  those  pupils  who  later  in  life  join  the  ranks  of 
manual  workers,  whether  skilled  or  unskilled,  the  edu- 
cation of  the  muscles  is  plainly  of  the  greatest  practical 
value.  The  highest  educational  reason  for  muscular 
education  is,  however,  simply  this :  Education  should 
be  a  development  of  all  the  powers  of  man.  Educa- 
tion should  put  us  in  possession  of  our  whole  being; 
and  to  do  this  we  must  be  able  to  use  our  muscles  with 
skill. 

Athletics  and  Physical  Culture.  —  Athletic  skill  ought 
to  be  a  part  of  every  education.  Every  one  should  be 
taught  marching,  running,  jumping,  swimming,  skat- 
ing, wheeling,  boxing,  fencing,  rowing,  the  principal 
athletic  games,  and  the  simpler  forms  of  apparatus 
gymnastics. 

The  wrong  spirit  dominates  our  athletics.  All  we 
are  concerned  about  is  to  beat  somebody.  Hence  only 
those  with  unusual  talents  in  this  direction  give  much 
attention  to  gymnastics.  Again,  as  long  as  we  can  do 
certain  feats  successfully,  we  care  little  how  we  do  them. 
Ease,  grace,  and  command  of  the  muscles  should  be  our 
first  aim.  Each  person's  purpose  in  athletics  should  be 
to  gain  dominion  over  himself,  not  primarily  "  to 
beat  the  other  fellow." 

The  most  beautiful  object  in  the  whole  world  is  the 
human  body.  But  the  human  body  is  most  beautiful 
when  in  beautiful  motion.  Even  a  plain  person  with 
grace  of  movement  becomes  a  thing  of  beauty.  The 
art  of  good  carriage,  of  graceful  pose,  of  becoming  move- 
ments, may  be  called  physical  culture.  We  habitually 


The  Pedagogy  of  Technical  Habits          303 

underestimate  its  value.  It  is  our  duty  to  be  healthy, 
strong,  and  skillful ;  and  it  is  just  as  much  our  duty  to 
be  graceful. 

HOW  WRITING  SHOULD  BE  TAUGHT 

The  results  of  child  study  show  that  civilization 
forces  writing  upon  children  at  too  early  an  age.  Be- 
fore eight  or  ten  years,  the  child's  muscles  and  fingers 
are  not  sufficiently  developed  to  hold  comfortably  so 
small  an  object  as  a  pen  and  to  make  so  exact  a  figure 
as  a  letter  of  ordinary  script.  Nor  are  the  eyes  ready 
to  distinguish  such  minute  objects  as  those  of  the 
"  copy  "  of  the  ordinary  writing  book. 

If  our  school  system  were  fully  rationalized,  there 
would  be  no  need  of  teaching  babes  under  eight  years 
the  art  of  writing.  But  as  it  now  is,  a  teacher  who  is 
in  the  system  cannot  do  altogether  as  she  pleases.  She 
must  teach  reading  and  writing  to  the  first  and  second 
grade.  If,  then,  writing  must  be  taught,  the  best 
thing  to  do  is  to  make  it  mainly  a  blackboard  exercise 
and  require  beginners  to  make  large  letters,  even  on 
paper. 

The  ideal  teacher  in  the  ideal  school  would  teach 
writing  only  incidentally.  She  would  never  have  a 
class  just  in  writing.  When  her  pupils  had  anything 
to  say  and  she  or  they  preferred  not  to  use  oral  lan- 
guage, they  would  write.  Whether  this  writing  were 
geography  or  history  or  letters,  the  pupils  would  take 
pains  to  put  it  in  their  best  hand,  and  the  teacher  would 
be  there  to  direct  the  exercise  and  give  instruction  in 
the  art.  But  we  are  a  long  way  from  the  ideal  yet.  As 
our  school  programs  are  arranged  at  present,  there 


304         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

would  often  be  absolutely  no  chance  to  give  any 
instruction  in  the  art  of  writing,  if  there  were  no 
special  period  set  apart  for  it.  Still,  copy-book  writing 
should  be  made  a  very  subordinate  subject  in  the 
course. 

The  main  things  for  the  teacher  to  remember  in 
reference  to  writing  are  the  following:  — 

Never  allow  the  pupil  to  write  in  any  other  hand  than 
his  best. 

The  characteristics  of  good  handwriting  in  the  order 
of  then*  desirability  are:  legibility,  rapidity,  beauty. 
There  is  a  long  distance  between  each  of  these. 

The  position  of  the  body  in  writing  should  be  such 
that  it  can  be  maintained  by  an  adult  for  ten  hours  a 
day  without  injury  and  discomfort. 

We  shall  not  enter  into  the  merits  of  the  dispute 
between  the  "  verticals  "  and  the  "  slants."  Suffice 
it  to  say  that  the  war  has  brought  out  in  strong  relief 
these  three  principles :  rounded  forms  are  more  legible 
than  elongated  forms ;  beauty  is  secondary  to  legibility ; 
and  the  simplest  form  of  a  letter  is  the  best,  as  every 
flourish  or  embellishment  decreases  legibility. 

MANUAL  TRAINING,  SLOYD 

The  last  word  on  manual  training  as  pedagogical 
material  has  already  been  said  by  Professor  0.  Solomon 
of  Naas,  Sweden.  We  can  do  nothing  better  than  to 
sum  up  his  conclusions  here. 

The  aim  of  manual  training  in  children's  schools 
should  be  to  help  to  furnish  a  well-rounded,  all-sided 
culture,  not  to  teach  any  particular  trade.  The  sloyd 
teacher  should  aim  at  developing  a  cultured  human 


The  Pedagogy  of  Technical  Habits          305 

being  and  not  primarily  the  ability  to  make  shoes, 
bricks,  or  furniture. 

How  the  Pupil  should  be  Taught.  —  The  children 
should  have  a  natural  interest  in  their  work.  Hence 
manual  training  should  not  consist  in  going  through 
unproductive  exercises  with  tools,  as  for  example  plan- 
ing a  smooth  surface,  boring  holes,  sawing  off  boards 
square ;  but  the  pupils  should  from  the  very  first  make 
something  useful.  What  a  pupil  makes  should  become 
his  property. 

The  ornamental  should  be  subordinated  to  the  useful. 
We  shall  never  have  true  art  until  we  recognize  that 
the  true  function  of  art  is  to  beautify  the  useful.  When 
a  people  is  truly  artistic,  its  kitchen  utensils  and  every- 
day garments  are  beautiful  and  none  the  less  useful. 
So,  as  a  rule,  children  should  be  restricted  to  what  is 
useful  in  their  sloyd  work ;  but  they  should  be  taught 
to  make  the  useful  as  beautiful  as  possible. 

The  teacher  should  not  do  the  least  bit  of  the  pupil's 
work  for  him.  If  the  pupil  needs  direction,  the  teacher 
should  not  touch  the  tool  and  material  of  the  student, 
but  should  take  another  tool  and  another  piece  of  ma- 
terial and  give  the  necessary  sample  of  work. 

It  is  doubtful  if  pupils'  work  ever  should  be  placed 
on  exhibition.  The  work,  not  the  products,  is  what  is  of 
pedagogical  value ;  very  often  the  most  finished  product 
is  the  result  of  the  most  vicious  pedagogical  work. 

INDUSTRIAL  EDUCATION 

Childhood  not  the  Time  for  Technical  Training.  — 
Draw  the  sharpest  line  possible  between  sloyd  (manual 
training)  and  industrial  education  (instruction  in  the 


306         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

trades).  It  is  the  acme  of  false  pedagogy  to  teach  a 
trade  to  a  child.  Every  consideration  is  against  it. 
In  most  cases  it  is  impossible  to  tell  for  what  trade  a 
child  has  the  greatest  aptitude.  The  muscles  and  the 
nerve  centers  of  the  child  are  not  sufficiently  developed 
to  admit  of  such  exactness  of  movements  as  are  neces- 
sary for  the  highest  workmanship  in  most  trades.  More 
than  that,  it  is  well  established  that  training  which 
forces  a  high  degree  of  technical  skill  prematurely  upon 
a  child  is  distinctly  injurious  to  him,  retarding  com- 
plete physical  development. 

But  the  weightiest  reason  against  teaching  trades  to 
children  is  that  childhood  should  be  sacred  to  the  full 
and  symmetrical  development  of  the  whole  human  being. 
Primarily,  the  teacher's  duty  is  not  to  raise  lawyers, 
physicians,  tailors,  barbers,  and  paper  hangers.  His 
duty  is  to  develop  men.  It  is  inexpressibly  sad  to  hear 
the  sordid  standard  of  "  earning  capacity  "  made  the 
standard  of  education.  Not  long  ago  I  heard  a  very 
prominent  politician  speak  on  this  subject,  and  after 
saying  that  the  school  should  train  for  life,  in  the  same 
breath  he  gave  as  a  synonym :  "  Any  school  study 
which  does  not  help  the  pupil  in  making  a  living  is 
useless."  Now,  with  all  deference  to  the  high  source 
from  which  this  sentiment  came,  he  could  not  well 
have  expressed  a  more  vicious  heresy.  He  assumed 
that  the  whole  duty  of  man  is  to  earn  money.  If  it  is, 
let  us  tear  down  our  school  walls,  and  send  our  children 
to  the  mills. 

Let  us  cease  a  moment  from  our  money  madness. 
The  chief  end  of  man  is  not  the  weekly  reception  of  a 
fat  pay  envelope,  correspondence-school  advertisements 


The  Pedagogy  of  Technical  Habits          307 

notwithstanding.  The  chief  end  of  man  is  to  live  the 
noblest,  richest  human  life  possible.  For  this  he  wants 
spirit,  mind,  and  body  as  highly  and  as  symmetrically 
developed  as  possible,  and  harmoniously  adjusted  to 
his  environment.  Childhood  and  at  least  the  early 
teens  are  not  too  long  a  period  for  this  all-sided  develop- 
ment. 

But  even  according  to  the  sordid  standard  of  wage- 
earning  capacity,  the  wise  course  is  to  postpone  tech- 
nical education  and  instruction  in  the  trades  until 
childhood  and  adolescence  are  passed.  There  is  no 
better  basis  for  the  production  of  mechanic  or  craftsman 
than  a  healthy  and  symmetrically  developed  individual. 
The  wide-awake  boy  who  has  found  himself  and  who 
has  himself  under  perfect  control  will  in  "a  year  become 
a  vastly  superior  workman  to  the  lopsided  and  mentally 
dwarfed  individual  who  has  been  trained  in  a  trade 
since  childhood. 

Occupations  for  life  cannot  safely  be  chosen  for 
children.  If  the  choice  made  by  or  for  them  while 
they  were  children  had  been  final,  the  lives  of  our  great 
men  would  have  been  very  different.  Linnaeus,  the 
world's  greatest  botanist,  would  have  been  a  shoemaker, 
Washington  a  sailor,  and  Jim,  the  ragman,  would  have 
been  President  of  the  United  States.  If  boys  chose 
for  themselves,  the  world  would  soon  consist  only  of 
sailors,  policemen,  and  chauffeurs  —  with  a  flying- 
machine  operator  thrown  in  —  or  blown  in  —  here 
and  there. 

The  Right  Kind  of  Industrial  Education.  —  But  for 
all  this,  we  need  industrial  training  in  the  grades. 
Sloyd  in  wood  and  metals,  elementary  agriculture,  and 


308         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

domestic  economy  should  be  taught  in  every  elementary 
school  that  has  the  funds  for  it. 

Education  may  be  defined  as  adjustment  to  environ- 
ment. The  child  should  be  so  adjusted  to  his  environ- 
ment —  the  world  of  nature  and  the  world  of  man  — 
that  he  can  live  the  richest  and  most  harmonious  life. 
There  is  no  objection  to  vocational  teaching,  whenever 
this  can  be  done  without  diminishing  the  central  purpose 
of  the  school.  In  other  words,  whenever  the  so-called 
practical  subjects  really  educate  in  the  broad  and  true 
sense  and  not  merely  train  for  some  occupation,  there 
is  no  better  subject  for  our  schools  than  these  same 
practical  subjects. 

The  main  object,  then,  of  industrial  or  vocational 
education  is  to  make  the  school  a  part  of  the  living, 
throbbing  life  of  the  present  and  not  allow  it  to  remain 
an  artificial  and  detached  world  of  its  own.  Education, 
even  elementary  education,  should  not  be  a  side  show, 
but  should  be  right  in  the  main  tent  of  life. 

ELEMENTARY  AGRICULTURE 

The  traditional  school  curriculum  has  connected 
beautifully  and  naturally  with  city  life,  especially  with 
sedentary  occupations.  The  country,  with  all  its  wonder 
and  beauty,  has  been  left  a  terra  incognita  to  the  student. 
The  educated  farmer  has  lived  a  double  life.  While 
he  has  known  something  of  the  siege  of  Troy,  he  has 
been  sublimely  ignorant  of  the  wonderful  epic  of  natural 
forces  continually  going  on  upon  his  farm.  He  may 
have  known  something  of  chemistry  and  botany,  but 
it  is  a  safe  wager  that  not  once  a  month  did  he  meet 
any  of  his  book-and-laboratory  science  in  field  and 


The  Pedagogy  of  Technical  Habits          309 

stable.  On  school  subjects  he  was  modern,  scientific, 
progressive;  but  he  ran  his  farm  by  rote,  and  was 
content  to  travel  on  as  a  farmer  in  the  rut  of  his  fore- 
fathers. 

Now,  this  is  all  wrong.  Education  should  adjust  the 
child  fully  as  much  to  country  life  as  to  city  life,  since 
nearly  two  thirds  of  us  (in  the  United  States)  still 
live  in  the  country.  What  we  need  is  a  course  that 
trains  for  country  life,  and  connects  naturally  with  life 
in  the  open,  in  close  contact  with  the  soil  and  nature. 
This  rural  education  should  open  the  eyes  and  the 
heart  of  the  pupil  to  the  beauties  and  opportunities 
of  country  life.  It  should  make  him  an  acquaintance 
and  a  friend  of  the  animals  of  the  barnyard  and  the 
plants  of  the  cultivated  field.  It  should  teach  him  to 
find  himself,  get  command  of  himself,  in  free,  vigorous 
outdoor  occupations.  The  school  in  the  country  should 
be  itself  a  bit  of  country  life  in  natural  and  intimate 
connection  with  its  environment;  not,  as  is  now  so 
often  the  case,  a  bit  of  city  life  that  is  mislaid  in  alien 
surroundings. 

Agriculture  for  the  City  Child.  —  And  if  in  spite  of 
this  alluring  introduction  to  the  charms  of  country  life 
the  country  boy  goes  to  the  city  as  he  sometimes  must, 
he  will  have  no  reason  to  regret  his  rural  training.  Sed- 
entary life  is  after  all  a  violently  unnatural  form  of 
existence ;  and  now  we  are  pretty  well  agreed  that  no 
one  should  attempt  such  a  life  without  long  and  frequent 
visits  and  vacations  spent  in  the  country.  His  rural 
education  will  teach  the  city  man  what  to  do  with  his 
sojourns  in  the  country.  Now,  it  is  often  pathetic  to 
see  how  alien  the  country  is  to  the  city-bred  person. 


310         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Watch  a  company  of  city  people  on  an  outing  near  one 
of  the  beautiful  Minnesota  lakes  on  a  glorious  day  in 
June,  with  the  fish  biting  and  the  water  just  right  for 
swimming.  What  do  they  do?  Guess!  Why,  they 
sit  all  day  in  a  stuffy  little  summer  cottage,  playing 
cards.  They  have  no  rural  education.  This  is  why  I 
never  could  see  any  sense  in  restricting  a  course  in 
rural  education  to  rural  districts.  The  city  child  needs 
it  just  as  much.  By  all  means,  when  possible,  have  such 
courses  in  the  cities  as  well  as  in  the  country. 

Agriculture  for  Girls  as  well  as  for  Boys.  —  It  is 
customary  to  add  that  these  courses  in  agriculture  are 
for  boys  only.  Here  is  another  place  where  the  old 
heresy  crops  out.  The  idea  is  that  since  the  girl  is 
not  to  work  in  the  fields  after  she  is  grown,  it  would 
be  a  waste  for  her  to  study  agriculture.  Let  us  get 
rid  of  this  notion  that  in  teaching  what  is  called  agri- 
culture in  the  grades  we  are  teaching  a  trade.  We  are 
not.  The  girl  needs  an  introduction  to  country  life 
as  well  as  the  boy.  Our  attention  is  often  called  to  the 
fact  that  no  class  is  more  frequently  represented  in 
the  insane  asylums  than  the  farmer's  wife.  Why? 
She  lives  in  an  alien  world  in  which  she  has  no  interest, 
that  means  nothing  to  her.  Intellectual  and  emotional 
starvation  is  what  is  the  matter  with  her.  By  all  means, 
educate  the  girls  as  well  as  the  boys  in  your  agriculture 
classes  to  appreciate  rural  life. 

Teach  agriculture  by  all  means.  Teach  it  to  all  your 
pupils,  both  girls  and  boys,  to  the  future  lawyer  and 
banker,  no  less  than  to  the  future  farmer.  The  science 
of  agriculture  is  simply  botany,  zoology,  mineralogy, 
chemistry,  physics,  and  geography  viewed  from  their 


The  Pedagogy  of  Technical  Habits          311 

most  interesting  side ;  for  it  is  the  side  that  is  in  closest 
relation  to  us,  that  pertains  to  us,  touches  us.  Hence 
the  agricultural  part  of  these  sciences  is  precisely  the 
most  educative  portion,  for  it  can  be  assimilated  into 
the  lives  of  the  pupils.  The  art  of  agriculture  should 
be  practiced  in  all  schools  that  have  facilities  for  it; 
for  next  to  wood  sloyd  no  industrial  employment 
gives  more  varied  and  healthful  exercise,  and  is  more 
suited  to  the  needs  and  abilities  of  children.  As  the 
object  is  not  to  teach  the  trade  of  farming,  there  is 
nothing  lost  but  much  gained  by  having  the  future 
banker  and  factory  hand  raise  beans  and  graft  apple 
trees. 

DOMESTIC  ECONOMY 

Cooking  and  the  care  of  a  house  are  also  subjects 
which  have  a  great  educational  value.  As  the  great 
majority  of  women  are  destined  to  perform  such  work 
in  later  life,  the  utilitarian  argument  applies  here  as 
nowhere  else.  Instruction  in  cooking  ought  to  tend 
towards  raising  the  health  average  of  the  race  in  a  double 
measure;  it  should  provide  healthful  physical  exer- 
cise, and  also  improve  the  hygienic  character  of  our 
meals.  Domestic  economy  should  teach  the  pupils 
that  the  world  of  the  sciences  and  the  books  is  precisely 
the  same  world  as  that  of  the  saucepan  and  the  broom. 

SEWING 

Sewing  has  not  as  much  to  recommend  it  as  a  school 
exercise  as  cooking.  As  a  fine  art,  it  comes  nearer  to 
being  inspired  by  vanity  than  any  other  (including 
under  sewing,  embroidery  and  lace  making).  If  our 
girls  should  go  to  their  graves  ignorant  of  the  gentle 


312         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

art  of  taking  certain  stitches  and  doing  certain  kinds 
of  crochet  work,  neither  they  nor  the  world  would  be 
very  much  the  worse.  The  elements  of  sewing  can  be 
taught  by  most  mothers ;  and  for  that  matter,  its  rudi- 
ments can  be  "  picked  up  "  by  any  intelligent  girl. 
There  is  evidence  that  even  the  bachelor  will  qualify  upon 
proper  provocation.  Worst  of  all,  sewing  is  a  monot- 
onous and  unhygienic  occupation.  There  is  no  appre- 
ciable muscular  exercise  in  hand  sewing;  and  the  constant 
temptation  is  to  assume  a  stooping  posture,  very  detri- 
mental to  the  health  of  the  lungs.  As  it  is  a  sedentary 
occupation  besides,  it  is  worthless  as  a  corrective  of 
the  sedentary  nature  of  book  work.  Still,  dressmak- 
ing is  an  important  art,  and  of  great  practical  value  to 
most  women ;  and  if  a  place  can  be  found  for  it  in  our 
crowded  curriculum,  it  is  certainly  a  valuable  addition ; 
but  care  should  be  taken  to  prevent  unhygienic  effects. 

COMMERCIAL  SUBJECTS 

Many  subjects  of  commercial  education  can  defend 
their  place  in  a  high  school  course.  Bookkeeping  is  as 
educative  as  cube  root  or  percentage.  Typewriting 
and  shorthand  have  nowadays  a  fairly  universal  use- 
fulness. 

Our  schools,  then,  will  be  distinctly  enriched  by  the 
addition  of  agriculture,  sloyd,  domestic  economy,  and 
a  commercial  -course.  These  subjects  will  be  practi- 
cally useful  to  some  of  the  pupils  in  after  life  and  educa- 
tive to  them  all.  Best  of  all,  the  introduction  of  these 
subjects  will  make  the  school  a  part  of  the  life  of  the 
community  and  of  that  larger  life  into  which  the  pupil 
is  soon  to  enter. 


The  Pedagogy  of  Technical  Habits          313 


Exercises 

1.  Distinguish  between  the  following:    manual  training,  in- 
dustrial education  in  trades,  technical  education,  gymnastics, 
athletics,  calisthenics. 

2.  How  can  school  athletics  be  made  to  contribute  to  raising 
the  physical  development  of  every  student  instead  of  giving 
abnormally  great  development  to  a  few  students  in  a  few  lines 
of  physical  development  only? 

3.  How  would  you  teach  a  pupil  to  appreciate  to  the  full  the 
motor  element  in  literature  ? 

4.  What  should  be  the  aim  of  physical  culture? 

5.  Outline  a  course  in  the  arts  of  agriculture  and  horticulture 
for  a  country  elementary  school ;  for  a  city  school. 

6.  /How  could  a  course  in  the  art  of  cooking  be  made  to  solve 
the  problem  of  a  midday  meal  for  the  pupils  while  at  school? 

7.  Illustrate  from  literature  the  old  and  the  new  conception 
of  the  physical  development  of  the  scholar. 

8.  Outline  a  course  in  sloyd  (manual  training),  agriculture, 
domestic  economy,  and  physical  education  for  the  grades  and 
high  school. 


CHAPTER  XXX 
EDUCATIONAL  REORGANIZATION 

IN  the  past  the  schools  have  been  the  citadel  of  con- 
servatism. The  schoolmaster  and  the  professor  ate 
the  bread  of  the  government  or  were  pensioners  of 
the  privileged  classes,  and  it  behooved  them  to  cham- 
pion tradition  and  vested  interests. 

But  times  have  changed.  Progress  is  in  the  air, 
and  hi  no  profession  is  the  innovator  more  honored  than 
in  ours.  Most  of  our  late  educational  reformers, 
however,  exhaust  themselves  in  denouncing  what  we 
have.  One  of  the  notable  exceptions  is  Dr.  Maria 
Montessori  of  Rome.  The  wonderful  results  she  has 
obtained  have  attracted  the  attention  of  educators  to 
such  an  extent  that  her  methods  are  now  being  tested 
in  almost  every  civilized  country. 

THE  MONTESSORI  METHOD 

It  is  impossible  to  study  the  work  of  Dr.  Maria 
Montessori  without  recognizing  her  genius  and  her 
magnetic  personality.  The  greatest  thing  in  the  Mon- 
tessori movement  is  Dr.  Maria  Montessori  herself. 

The  basic  principle  of  this  method  is  the  best  estab- 
lished conclusion  of  modern  psychology:  Man  is 
primarily  an  organism  that  reacts  to  stimuli.  Hence 
the  first  business  of  the  nascent  human  organism  is 

314 


Educational  Reorganization  315 

learning  to  use  its  senses  (which  receive  stimuli)  and 
to  coordinate  its  motor  reactions.  That  is,  sense  train- 
ing and  motor  training  come  first  and  foremost  in  human 
education. 

The  tactile  and  motor  senses  are  primary.  Develop 
them  first ;  and  train  eye  and  ear  only  in  closest  depend- 
ence upon  them.  The  world  as  we  see  it  is  built  up 
on  the  framework  of  the  world  as  we  have  handled  it 
with  our  hands.  Therefore,  if  we  have  not  handled 
and  touched  things  sufficiently,  our  perceptual  world, 
vision  included,  is  uncertain  and  unsound.  A  solid 
is  primarily  something  that  can  be  handled.  A  sur- 
face is  in  origin  a  touch  sensation.  Hence  let  the  child 
touch,  handle,  and  make  things  first,  and  thus  get  a 
vital  acquaintance  with  them,  and  then  afterwards 
recognize  them  by  sight  and  hearing  alone.  The  pupil 
should  study  the  world  with  his  fingers  and  hands  first, 
next  and  secondarily  with  his  eyes  and  ears.  This  is 
the  true  pedagogical  order,  and  on  this  psychological 
basis  Dr.  Montessori  has  built  her  system. 

Sense  Training.  —  A  large  part  of  the  sense-training 
apparatus  consists  of  blocks  of  geometric  forms  that 
fit  exactly  into  a  series  of  holes.  Some  of  the  exercises 
consist  in  fitting  these  insets  into  their  proper  places. 
Bobbins  with  colored  yarn  are  also  to  be  arranged 
according  to  color  and  shade.  Most  of  this  work  can 
be  done  without  the  intervention  of  the  "  directress," 
as  the  teacher  is  called. 

As  typical  of  the  work  of  the  directress,  we  may  cite 
the  teaching  of  the  names  of  colors.  She  shows  the 
red  yarn  and  says,  "  This  is  red."  Then  a  contrasting 
color,  as  blue,  and  says,  "  This  is  blue,"  and  so  on. 


316         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

Then  the  exercise  is  reversed.  The  child  is  asked, 
"  What  color  is  this?  "  and  if  he  answers  correctly,  the 
directress  goes  on  with  her  questions ;  but  as  soon  as 
the  child  makes  a  mistake,  the  teacher  "  smiles  "  and 
drops  the  exercise  without  correcting  the  error,  — 
this  on  the  theory  that  a  correction  would  be  quite  as 
likely  to  fasten  the  error  in  memory.  The  Montessori 
method  was  first  devised  for  defective  children,  and  in 
their  education  this  last  rule  is  probably  valid.  But 
it  can  scarcely  be  doubted  that  with  normal  children 
immediate  and  direct  correction  of  errors  by  the  teacher 
is  the  most  economical  method. 

For  children  who  come  from  the  poverty-stricken 
tenements  of  the  great  cities,  as  the  majority  of  the 
children  in  the  Montessori  Children's  Houses  do  come, 
and  even  for  the  city  child  from  the  middle-class  home, 
these  apparatus  exercises  are  a  great  improvement  on 
his  former  touchable  and  graspable  universe.  For 
"  Hands  off  "  is  the  melancholy  motto  of  the  city  child's 
world.  A  Montessori  Children's  House  is  a  paradise 
for  the  touch-hungry  city  child ;  but  it  is  questionable 
whether  it  has  much  to  offer  the  country  child  in  sense 
training. 

Motor  Training.  —  The  other  half  of  this  earliest 
education  is  motor  training,  —  exercises  to  establish 
muscular  coordination,  or,  to  be  more  exact,  coordina- 
tion of  reaction  paths  in  the  nerve  centers.  Every 
Montessori  exercise  involves  motor  activity,  but  some 
are  especially  designed  for  motor  training.  Among 
these  we  find  the  ancient  art  of  pottery,  in  this  case  a 
glorified  mud-pie  baking  and  modeling  in  clay,  includ- 
ing the  making  and  use  of  bricks. 


Educational  Reorganization  317 

The  children  are  taught  to  be  self-dependent  and  self- 
sufficient  in  their  personal  routine  at  a  surprisingly  early 
age.  They  wash  and  dress  themselves  and  keep  their 
belongings  and  the  school  utensils  in  order.  To  do 
this  they  are  given  lessons  by  means  of  a  special  appa- 
ratus in  lacing  and  buttoning  shoes  and  clothes.  They 
are  also  taught  to  set  the  table  and  serve  meals,  —  this 
both  as  social  education  and  as  sense  and  motor  train- 
ing. Four-year-olds  do  this  work  perfectly. 

Social  Education.  —  Politeness  and  good  manners 
are  insisted  upon  everywhere.  Easy,  graceful  motions, 
proper  carriage  of  the  body,  and  clear,  modulated  voices 
are  results  achieved  at  a  very  early  age. 

In  self-help,  manners,  and  deportment  we  find  the 
most  beautiful  work  of  the  system.  Dr.  Montessori 
has  demonstrated  that  even  before  the  age  of  five  years 
a  normal  child  can  and  ought  to  dress  himself  and 
conduct  himself  at  the  table  with  the  same  propriety 
as  a  grown-up. 

Exaggeration  of  the  Value  of  Early  Training.  — 
Dr.  Montessori  puts  a  tremendous  value  on  early  sense 
and  motor  training.  For  example,  she  expresses  the 
conviction  that  naughtiness  of  children  consists  mainly 
in  imperfect  motor  development,  and  says  it  is  a 
well-known  fact  that  a  foreign  language  cannot  be 
perfectly  acquired,  nor  a  patois  or  dialect  entirely 
eradicated  after  the  seventh  year.  This  latter  conten- 
tion is  demonstrably  false.  Any  time  before  adoles- 
cence a  normal  individual  can  acquire  a  new  language  or 
dialect  perfectly. 

One  can  hardly  escape  the  conclusion  that  Dr.  Mon- 
tessori's  argument  confuses  two  radically  different 


318         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

stages  in  sense  training.  The  training  of  the  sense 
organs  themselves,  to  be  wholly  successful,  must  occur 
in  early  infancy.  Happily,  few  adults  have  deficient 
sense  organs  because  of  insufficient  exercise  in  infancy. 
The  apperceptive  training  of  perception  (which  is  what 
the  Montessori  system  provides),  while  possible  and 
profitable  both  earlier  and  later,  has  its  most  remunera- 
tive period  of  training  in  later  childhood  (from  eight  to 
fifteen  years  of  age). 

The  fundamental  motor  reactions  must  be  learned 
and  coordinated  in  early  childhood.  Normally,  we 
establish  during  our  first  three  years  the  ideomotor 
associations  for  every  elementary  motion  we  are  ever 
to  make.  The  earlier  we  study  a  language,  the  more 
easily  we  acquire  it. 

But  there  is  danger  of  overtraining  not  fully  devel- 
oped muscles.  Fine  and  exact  coordination  of  move- 
ments may  stunt  the  growth  of  the  system.  Many  of 
the  Montessori  exercises  are  suspiciously  complex 
and  refined  for  immature  bodies ;  and  it  would  be 
rash  indeed  to  assert  that  such  training  cannot  be 
harmful. 

Practical  and  Dynamic  Interests.  —  The  young  child 
(the  child  under  seven  years,  approximately)  is  ruled 
by  two  classes  of  interests,  which  we  may  here  call 
the  practical  and  the  dynamic.  The  first  class  he 
has  in  common  with  us  all.  He  engages  in  certain 
activities  because  he  wants  the  results.  He  hunts  the 
squirrel  because  he  wants  the  squirrel.  He  harnesses  the 
dog  because  he  wants  the  dog  to  pull  his  sled.  But  he  has 
another  interest  that  is  almost  atrophied  in  the  adult,  — 
interest  in  an  activity  for  the  activity's  own  sake.  He 


Educational  Reorganization  319 

runs  and  shouts  and  whistles  just  because  it  is  fun  to 
run  and  shout  and  whistle.  He  is  interested  in  almost 
any  exercise  of  his  motor  powers.  Hence  a  purpose- 
less exercise,  like  fitting  cylinders  into  holes,  may  be 
exceedingly  interesting  to  him. 

When  we  perform  an  action  with  interest  in  the  result, 
we  do  not  care  to  repeat.  The  interest  in  the  action 
is  gone  when  the  purpose  is  gained.  Hence  drill  is 
tedious  to  the  older  student.  But  as  the  child  may  be 
interested  in  the  activity  itself,  it  follows  that  within 
the  limits  of  fatigue,  repeating  the  exercise  repeats 
the  enjoyment.  The  result  is  that  children  are  easily 
and  naturally  interested  in  any  exercise  of  which  they 
are  capable.  The  interest  is  enhanced  if  the  exercise 
is  rhythmic ;  and  generally,  its  difficulty  is  the  measure 
of  its  interest. 

Whence  it  follows  that  the  artificiality  and  purpose- 
lessness  of  most  of  the  exercises  of  the  Montessori 
system  cannot  be  urged  per  se  as  defects. 

But  two  is  twice  one.  It  is  better  to  unite  the  prac- 
tical and  dynamic  interests  wherever  possible.  Such 
is  nature's  way.  Spontaneously,  naturally,  the  child's 
efforts  are  in  most  cases  first  practical,  and  only  after 
skill  has  been  won  for  practical  purposes  are  the 
motions  repeated  for  dynamic  pleasure.  The  child 
struggles  to  talk  because  he  wants  to  say  something, 
but  when  he  has  mastered  a  word,  a  phrase,  or  a  sound, 
he  loves  to  repeat  it  dozens  of  times  for  the  mere 
dynamic  pleasure  of  using  his  vocal  organs  and  of  hear- 
ing himself  speak. 

Hence  the  more  the  educative  exercises  can  be  con- 
nected with  the  practical  interests  of  childhood,  the 


320         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

better.  In  this  respect  the  Montessori  system  is  cer- 
tainly far  from  the  ideal. 

Teaching  Reading  and  Writing.  —  The  Montessori 
system  comes  to  its  technical  zenith  in  teaching  reading 
and  writing. 

When  the  children  have  played  with  insets  until  the 
geometric  solids  are  familiar  to  them,  metal  circles, 
triangles,  and  the  like,  with  a  button  in  the  middle  of 
each  for  lifting,  are  supplied.  By  drawing  around 
these,  the  pupil  gets  plane  figures,  and  his  attention 
is  called  to  lines  and  angles."  He  shades  and  colors 
these  figures,  and  thus  learns  to  see  and  feel  plane 
figures. 

Next  he  is  given  an  alphabet  of  sandpaper  letters. 
These  he  studies  by  touch,  then  traces.  While  touch- 
ing, tracing,  and  handling  these  letters  he  learns  to  call 
them  by  the  sounds  they  represent.  Then  he  builds 
and  recognizes  words.  Sentences  and  phrases  come  of 
their  own  accord  next ;  but  still,  as  Dr.  Montessori 
observes,  he  has  not  used  written  language,  for  he  has 
never  tried  to  express  his  own  thoughts  by  that  means. 
But  some  day  he  explodes  into  written  language.  He 
is  surprised  that  he  can  write  and  read. 

The  advantage  of  this  system,  upon  which  the  author 
seems  to  put  the  emphasis,  is  that  the  children  learn 
written  language  without  knowing  it  and  without  any 
conscious  effort.  They  grow  into  reading  and  writing 
just  as  they  acquire  teeth  or  freckles  or  anything  else 
natural  and  inevitable. 

For  a  practically  phonetic  language  like  the  Italian, 
the  technique  of  this  system  is  perfect.  Derived  from 
the  method  used  for  feeble-minded  children,  it  is  so 


Educational  Reorganization  321 

arranged  that  written  language  is  attained  with  the 
smallest  possible  expenditure  of  mentality.  The  normal 
child  cannot  avoid  the  trap.  It  is  inevitable.  The 
least  wriggle  of  his  soul  will  start  him  sliding  on  the 
inclined  plane  towards  writing  and  reading. 

But  is  the  whole  of  this  process,  with  all  its  compli- 
cated details  so  laborious  for  the  teacher  and  so  hard 
if  not  impossible  of  application  to  large  classes,  neces- 
sary for  the  normal  child  ?  Can  he  not  take  a  steeper 
grade? 

In  contrasting  her  system  with  the  ordinary  one  used 
in  the  Italian  public  schools,  Dr.  Montessori  intimates 
that  their  method  is  wearisome  and  slow.  Perhaps  it 
is.  But  in  a  good  American  primary  grade  learning 
to  read  is  enjoyed  by  the  pupils,  and  they  learn  to 
read  soon  enough.  In  fact,  as  to  speed  in  the  mastery 
of  written  language,  I  doubt  if  the  Montessori  system 
can  equal  the  Ward  method  or  that  of  the  "  Progressive 
Road  to  Reading." 

Certainly,  let  children  learn  to  read  as  soon  as  they 
desire  it,  even  if  only  three  or  four  years  old.  But  do 
not  imagine  that  it  is  of  any  great  advantage  to  the 
child  to  know  this  art  so  early.  Very  little  practical 
use  of  it  is  possible  until  after  his  eighth  year. 

However,  the  consummate  art  of  Dr.  Montessori's 
method  of  teaching  graphic  language  repays  study  both 
from  the  viewpoint  of  psychology  and  pedagogy; 
and  poor  indeed  is  the  teacher  who  cannot  get  sug- 
gestions for  the  improvement  of  his  own  method  from 
a  critical  study  of  this  technical  masterpiece. 

No  Literature.  —  Literature  has  no  place  in  the  Mon- 
tessori system.  Myths,  folklore,  and  fairy  tales  are 


322         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

banished.  It  seems  as  if  the  spirit  of  the  drab,  prac- 
tical common  sense  of  modern  industrialism  had  so 
permeated  the  modern  Italian  philosopher's  system 
that  she  finds  no  place  for  what  is  not  matter-of-fact. 
Her  claim  that  the  literary  element,  from  Mother  Goose 
up,  tends  to  confuse  and  bewilder  the  child  can  scarcely 
be  established.  It  is  unnecessary  to  criticise  this  point, 
for  we  are  not  likely  to  impoverish  our  primary  edu- 
cation by  following  her  example. 

Spontaneous  Self-direction  of  the  Child.  —  That 
all  which  does  not  come  from  the  spontaneous  activity 
of  the  child  is  of  evil,  is  to  Dr.  Montessori  not  simply 
a  doctrine  but  an  axiom  which  she  never  tires  of  repeat- 
ing and  never  tries  to  prove.  She  has  indeed  reduced 
this  to  an  absurdity.  To  follow  her  theory  consistently 
she  should  substitute  a  wax  figure  for  the  directress, 
because  a  wax  figure  could  do  nothing  so  much  more 
gracefully  than  a  mortal. 

Now,  how  is  the  illusion  produced  that  in  this  sys- 
tem the  child's  actions  are  all  spontaneous,  self-directed 
and  the  result  of  his  own  initiative  ? 

First,  by  exercises  that  must  either  be  done  right  or 
not  at  all  (Nothing  but  the  right  inset  will  fit  its 
place) ;  then,  by  limiting  a  child  to  doing  a  certain 
exercise  or  doing  nothing ;  and  finally,  by  making  all 
exercises  appeal  to  the  dynamic  interest  of  the  child. 

But  plainly,  in  all  this  the  child  is  led,  if  not  by  the 
nose  or  the  hand,  still  by  just  as  unmistakable  direc- 
tion as  if  the  teacher  had  put  the  information  and 
command  into  a  spoken  sentence. 

Nor  is  it  certain  that  by  concealing  the  purpose  (as 
is  done  in  teaching  reading)  the  pupil's  sum  total  of 


Educational  Reorganization  323 

pleasure  is  increased.  There  is  also  joy  in  anticipation, 
and  I  am  inclined  to  think  that  such  "  linked  sweetness 
long  drawn  out  "  totals  more  than  the  spasm  of  joyous 
surprise. 

The  Silent  Directress.  —  As  we  have  seen,  to  be 
perfectly  consistent  with  its  theory,  the  Montessori 
system  does  not  admit  of  a  teacher  at  all.  Since 
every  direction  by  another  is  an  infringement  of  self- 
direction  on  the  part  of  the  child,  there  is  no  place  for 
even  a  monosyllabic  directress.  But  here  we  must 
prefer  Dr.  Montessori's  practice  to  her  theory.  The 
true  function  of  the  teacher  is  to  stimulate  and  direct 
the  intellectual,  emotional,  and  motor  activities  of  the 
pupil.  Perhaps  the  most  common  mistake  of  the  inept 
teacher  is  that  of  doing  the  work  for  the  pupil  instead 
of  merely  directing  the  activities  of  the  pupil.  The 
voluble  teacher  is  particularly  in  danger  of  thus  failing. 
But  teaching  is  by  no  means  such  a  simple  business 
that  it  varies  in  excellence  always  in  inverse  propor- 
tion to  the  number  of  words  used.  In  fact,  it  depends 
not  at  all  on  how  much  but  entirely  on  what,  and  when 
the  teacher  speaks.  The  vital  question  is:  Do  the 
pupils  react  normally?  If  they  do,  they  will  develop 
normally.  The  teacher's  business,  whether  he  does  it 
by  few  or  many  words,  is  to  furnish  the  appropriate 
stimuli  and  directions.  Whether  the  stimuli  and  direc- 
tions consist  in  a  self-explanatory  apparatus  or  in  the 
words  of  the  teacher  matters  not ;  that  stimulus  and 
those  directions  are  best  which  most  economically  and 
naturally  secure  the  desired  reactions  from  the  child. 

The  Government  of  Children.  —  In  practice  the 
Children's  Houses  are  distinctly  institutions  of  social 


324         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

education ;  but  the  theory  is  an  unqualified  individual- 
ism. Theoretically,  the  child  is  not  to  be  governed. 
There  must  be  no  imperative  mood,  no  compulsion; 
the  child  is  never  to  be  coerced.  Over  and  over  again 
Dr.  Montessori  insists  that  the  child  should  be  reared 
in  "  liberty,"  and  not  only  does  she  not  qualify  this 
principle,  but  she  asserts  that  if  only  complete  liberty 
is  given,  all  problems  of  government  and  discipline  will 
solve  themselves. 

Let  us  advert  a  moment  to  fundamentals.  Man  is  a 
social  animal.  One  half  at  least  of  the  educational 
program  is  to  fit  children  for  their  place  in  human 
society.  The  fundamental  lesson  in  this  connection 
is  that  of  obedience.  Children  should  find  out,  and 
they  should  find  out  early,  that  the  universe  was  not 
constructed  primarily  to  satisfy  their  whims.  Class 
work  has  this  inestimable  benefit  that  it  teaches  the 
individual  that  he  has  a  larger  self,  —  the  social  self. 
Obedience  to  the  common  will  by  following  a  common 
program  is  another  of  those  blessed  "tyrannies"  of  the 
schools.  Man  is  an  individual,  and  he  is  a  social  being. 
Neither  of  these  should  be  sacrificed.  He  should  be 
a  strong  individual  and  also  a  wholly  socialized 
being. 

There  are  three  possible  relations  between  society 
and  the  individual,  (a)  First,  they  may  be  in  enmity. 
This  means  tyranny  or  anarchy.  This  was  the  con- 
dition in  the  old  English  boarding  schools,  as  we  see  it  in 
"Tom  Brown  at  Rugby"  and  Kipling's  "Stalky  and 
Co."  The  best  to  be  hoped  for  was  a  truce.  The  two 
belligerent  powers  might  at  best  view  each  other 
with  respect ;  and  certain  laws  of  war  were  observed. 


Educational  Reorganization  325 

(6)  The  second  relation  is  that  of  compromise.  The 
individual  and  society  have  each  their  separate  spheres, 
and  neither  must  infringe  on  that  of  the  other.  This 
seems  to  be  Dr.  Montessori's  creed,  as  it  was  that  of 
Rousseau  and  the  majority  of  the  pre-Revolutionary 
French  philosophers.  But  this  gives  only  a  dead 
mechanical  view  of  human  relations,  (c)  The  third 
relation  obtains  when  the  individual  can  find  his 
highest  development  and  his  only  true  freedom  in  lov- 
ing harmony  and  loyal  obedience  to  society.  By 
subordinating  himself  to  the  school,  the  pupil  loses 
nothing ;  he  gains  everything.  He  is  not  to  give  up  his 
own  will,  nor  even,  finally,  to  limit  it.  He  is  to  find  his 
own  true  will  in  the  common  harmonious  will  of  the 
institution. 

A  fine  example  of  unconscious  humor  is  found  in 
Dr.  Montessori's  sweeping  declaration  of  the  liberty 
of  the  pupil  to  follow  his  own  initiative  unhampered 
by  teachers  and  rules,  followed  a  few  pages  farther  on 
by  a  detailed  program  of  a  day's  work.  Evidently  if 
John  wants  to  play  with  insets  when  the  rest  are  serv- 
ing dinner,  he  —  but  here  either  the  program  or  the 
principle  will  be  fractured. 

The  discipline  in  the  Children's  Houses  must  be, 
after  all,  just  what  we  have  had  for  a  generation  in  our 
best  American  schools.  There  is  compulsion  and 
restraint,  but  the  vast  majority  of  pupils  are  very 
seldom  conscious  of  either.  The  child  must  act  not 
as  he  will  but  as  the  school  wills ;  but  school  life  and 
child  nature  are  so  well  harmonized  that  the  pupil  is 
simply  obeying  his  own  better  self.  There  are  practi- 
cally no  punishments  in  the  old  sense.  How  much 


326         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

corporal  punishment  is  meted  out  in  the  primary  grades 
in  the  United  States  ? 

THE  BOY  SCOUT  MOVEMENT 

From  Froebel  to  Montessori  the  emphasis  has  been 
placed  on  the  education  of  early  childhood.  Compara- 
tively little  has  been  done  for  the  most  critical  period 
of  development,  early  adolescence.  And  yet  for  char- 
acter and  culture,  for  individual  development,  and  social 
progress  the  education  received  during  the  last  years 
of  childhood  and  the  first  of  adolescence,  from  about  the 
twelfth  to  the  eighteenth  year,  is  worth  more  than  all 
that  came  before  and  all  that  can  be  given  afterwards. 

Character  is  a  by-product  of  our  self-directed  ac- 
tivity. It  can  be  produced  in  no  other  way.  The 
modern  boy  and  girl  moving  along  the  smooth  and 
narrow  channel  of  school  and  home  life  have  not  much 
chance  for  asserting  their  moral  individuality.  All 
is  foreordained.  But  in  General  Baden-Powell's  Boy 
Scout  movement  the  boy  is  trained  in  self-reliance, 
individuality,  courage,  initiative,  and  moral  fiber  at 
the  same  time  that  he  is  trained  in  loyalty,  obedience, 
and  the  spirit  of  comradeship.  In  my  opinion  this  is 
the  finest  school  for  character  yet  devised.  The  wood 
lore  and  field  lore,  the  training  in  camp  life  and  in  what 
to  do  in  cases  of  emergency  and  accident  are  also 
invaluable. 

The  Boy  Scout  movement  supplements  precisely  the 
cardinal  defect  of  the  school-room-and-school-book 
education.  Here  is  direct  contact  with  nature,  motor 
education,  initiative,  a  field  for  the  exercise  of  moral 
responsibility  and  self-reliance. 


Educational  Reorganization  327 

The  organization  of  the  Camp  Fire  Girls,  —  the 
feminine  branch  of  the  movement,  —  is  not  so  far 
advanced,  but  has  the  same  promise. 

The  problem  of  this  movement  is  how  to  weave  it 
into  our  social  fabric  and  how  to  establish  it  in  harmony 
and  cooperation  with  the  rest  of  our  educational  sys- 
tem. Here  is  constructive  work  worth  doing. 

THE  REORGANIZATION  OF  THE  CURRICULUM 

The  Education  of  Infants.  —  Since  the  country  has 
so  many  good  things  that  the  city  lacks,  such  as  fresh 
air  and  plenty  of  space,  some  one  has  sapiently  asked, 
"  Why  not  build  the  city  in  the  country?  "  Allow 
me  to  reverse  that  proposition.  Why  not  import  a 
bit  of  children's  country  into  the  city?  But  I  am 
forestalled.  It  has  already  been  done.  The  modern 
playground,  scientifically  equipped  and  managed,  is 
just  such  a  bit  of  children's  country,  and  needs  only  to 
be  enriched  and  enlarged  to  be  ideal.  Let  us  call  this 
enriched  playground  the  Children's  Estate.  Let  us 
add  domestic  animals,  as  cows,  ponies,  burros,  sheep, 
goats,  cats,  dogs,  and  chickens.  It  should  contain  a 
piece  of  wild  woodland  where  the  child  can  absorb 
wood  lore  with  oxygen.  Let  each  child  have  a  plot 
of  arable  ground  for  flowers  and  edible  vegetables, 
which  he  may  plant  and  care  for  under  the  direction  of 
the  teacher.  There  should  be  an  orchard  in  which 
the  children  may  roam.  On  this  estate  let  the 
children  spend  most  of  their  time  in  play,  spon- 
taneous except  for  the  supervision  and  direction  of 
the  teacher. 

A  part  of  the  time  should  be  spent  in  kindergarten 


328         Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

exercises.  These  can  be  much  enriched  by  the  addi- 
tion of  Montessori  exercises.  The  training  in  self- 
help,  domestic  usefulness,  and  polite  behavior  should 
be  adopted  wholesale  from  the  Montessori  system. 
As  much  of  this  kindergarten  work  as  possible  should 
be  carried  on  out  of  doors  when  the  weather  permits. 
Note  that  some  of  this  is  work  and  not  play.  The 
cultivation  of  the  garden,  the  setting  of  the  table, 
dressing,  washing  one's  self,  are  work,  though  a  well- 
trained  child  will  find  as  much  enjoyment  in  them  as 
in  play. 

Elementary  Education.  —  We  should  learn  from  the 
Montessori  system  that  since  our  primary  and  funda- 
mental functions  are  motor,  the  greater  part  of  the 
waking  hours  of  the  child  should  be  employed  in  motor 
reactions.  Our  elementary  schools  have  been  too 
bookish.  Manual  training,  domestic  economy,  agri- 
culture, horticulture,  wood  lore,  athletic  and  gymnastic 
exercises  must  have  a  larger  place  in  children's  life  in 
the  future  than  they  have  had  in  the  past. 

I  should  like  to  turn  the  grade-and-high-school 
curriculum  upside  down.  Later  childhood  is  the  time 
for  acquiring  the  story  element  of  history  and  the 
external  facts  of  science.  In  childhood  we  should 
become  acquainted  with  Abraham  and  Alexander, 
Marco  Polo  and  Lincoln,  with  African  elephants  and 
Hindu  temples,  with  chemical  reactions  and  the 
physical  properties  of  matter.  Later  childhood  is  also 
the  time  for  acquiring  the  art  element  (skill,  the  me- 
chanical memory  element)  of  learning,  as  languages, 
spelling,  drawing,  elements  of  playing  musical  instru- 
ments, arithmetical  computation  and  the  memorizing 


Educational  Reorganization  329 

of  names  and  dates,  personal  deportment  and  social 
etiquette;  in  short,  what  may  be  called  the  tech- 
nique of  civilization. 

The  bookish  part  of  elementary  education  would 
appear  thus :  — 

(a)  Several  languages  (at  least  one  more  than  the 
mother  tongue;  the  study  of  these  should  have  been 
begun  in  the  kindergarten  age),  literature  as  advanced 
as  the  children  can  understand,  not  in  homeopathic 
doses,  but  read  in  quantities  with  very  little  critical 
study  and  explanation. 

(6)  Volumes  and  volumes  of  objective  history  of 
every  race  and  age,  history  rich  in  story  and  anecdote, 
and  mostly  in  the  form  of  biography;  also  geography 
and  sociography  in  the  form  of  books  of  travel  and 
adventure. 

(c)  The  elements  of  all  the  natural  sciences  studied 
in  laboratory,  nature,  and  from  books,  the  emphasis 
placed  on  a  first-hand  acquaintance  with  nature,  and 
practically  no   time  spent  upon  recondite  scientific 
laws  and  classifications. 

(d)  The  technique  of  civilization  including  reading, 
writing,  spelling,  and  the  art  of  computation  in  arith- 
metic. 

Grammar  and  scientific  arithmetic,  definitions,  and 
the  scientific  systematization  of  knowledge  should  be 
left  for  the  high  school. 

Secondary  Education.  —  With  the  main  part  of  the 
fact  side  of  the  sciences  and  the  memory  side  of  lan- 
guages acquired  in  the  grades,  the  high  school  pupil 
could  devote  his  book  time  to  strictly  scientific  study. 
This  is  the  time  for  scientific  study  of  the  elements  of 


330        Psychology  as  Applied  to  Education 

language,  literature,  mathematics,  physical  sciences, 
biology,  history,  and  the  other  social  sciences. 

Summary.  —  Early  childhood  (up  to  seven  years) 
is  the  time  for  sensory  and  motor  organization  and 
coordination. 

Later  childhood  (seven  to  fifteen  years)  is  the  time 
for  motor  training  in  the  technique  of  civilization  and 
the  objective,  descriptive  study  of  our  environment. 

Youth  is  the  time  for  scientific  organization  of 
knowledge,  and  the  preliminary  vocational  training. 

THE  FUNCTION  OF  EDUCATION 

Slowly  and  painfully  with  many  a  blunder,  man  has 
worked  his  way  upward  from  primitive  barbarism  to 
his  present  state  of  culture.  Through  all  the  long 
process  it  has  been  the  function  of  the  parent  and  the 
teacher  to  transmit  the  treasure  of  civilization  from 
generation  to  generation. 

Yet  even  the  highest  civilization  leaves  much  to  be 
desired.  Above  and  far  ahead  gleams  our  ideal. 
Would  we  reach  it  we  must  avidly  accumulate,  and  with 
miserly  care  hoard  the  treasures  of  the  human  mind, 
the  spiritual  estate  of  human  society.  And  it  is  the 
high  duty  of  every  educator  to  transmit  this  spiritual 
patrimony  undiminished  and  untarnished. 


APPENDIX 


THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM 

BY  means  of  the  nervous  system  the  mind  controls  the  body 
and  receives  (through  the  end-organs  of  the  senses)  its  knowl- 
edge of  the  material  world. 

The  student  of  this  book  should  have  a  fair  knowledge  of 
the  physiology  of  the  nervous  system.  This  appendix  is  not 
intended  as  a  substitute  for  such  knowledge,  but  is  meant  to 
give  a  brief  summary  of  the  subject  from  the  psychologist's 
standpoint. 

TISSUES  OF  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM 

The  nervous  system  is 
made  up  of  structures 
called  neurons.  A  neuron 
consists  of  a  nerve  cell  with 
its  nucleus  and  tiny  fila- 
ments or  nerve  fibers  which 
extend  from  the  cell  body. 

Wherein  the  functions  of 
the  cell  body  and  its  fibers 
are  different,  is  a  matter  of 
some  uncertainty.  Both 
are  sensitive  to  stimulation 
and  both  possess  conductil- 
ity .  The  cell  body  is  known 
to  possess,  in  addition,  nu- 
tritive capacities,  and  is 
thought  to  have  the  power  to  enforce  or  inhibit  impulses  received 
and  even  to  be  capable  of  automatic  action. 

831 


THREE  NERVE  CELLS 


332 


Appendix 


Cerebrum 


THE  CENTRAL  SYSTEM 

The  central  nervous  system  consists  of  two  great  clusters  of 
nerve  centers  known  as  the  brain,  and  the  spinal  cord. 

The  Brain.  —  The  brain  consists  of  the  cerebrum,  or  the 
hemispheres  which  fill  the  greater  part  of  the  cavity  of  the 

skull,  and  the  cerebel- 
lum, which  lies  behind 
and  below  the  cere- 
brum. 

The  Cerebrum.  — 
The  cerebrum  is  di- 
vided into  a  left  and 
a  right  hemisphere. 
These  hemispheres  are 
united  by  a  band  of 
white  matter  at  the 
bottom  of  the  divid- 
ing cleft.  The  cere- 
brum is  in  form 
surprisingly  like  the 
kernel  .of  an  English 
walnut.  Its  surface, 
like  the  walnut's,  is  a 
series  of  convolutions.  Deeper  fissures  divide  each  hemisphere 
into  four  lobes  — frontal,  temporal,  parietal,  and  occipital.  The 
deepest  fissures  are  those  of  Rolando  and  Sylvius. 

The  tissues  of  the  cerebrum  are  of  two  kinds.  The  outside, 
or  cortex,  is  gray  matter,  between  jelly  and  porridge  in  consist- 
ency, and  beneath  this  is  white  stringy  matter.  The  greater 
part  of  the  gray  matter  is  made  up  of  nerve  cells,  while  the  white 
matter  consists  of  nerve  fibers,  which,  as  we  have  seen,  are  out- 
growths from  the  nerve  cells. 

The  function  of  the  gray  matter,  whether  in  the  cortex,  spinal 
cord,  or  other  nerve  center,  is  to  generate  and  switch  nerve 
currents.  These  masses  of  gray  matter  have  the  functions  of  the 
batteries  in  a  telegraph  line  and  of  the  switches  in  a  railroad 
yard.  Neural  energy  seems  to  be  generated  here,  and  here 


THE  HUMAN 

Shown  from  the  side  with  the  cerebrum  and 
cerebellum  separated  from  each  other. 


Appendix 


333 


.Olfactory 


Cerebrum 


Crura 
CercM 


sensory  currents  are  changed  into  motor  currents,  and  motor 
currents  are  sent  from  one  nerve  fiber  to  another. 
(When  a  current  of  neural  energy  passes  through  gray  matter, 
it  leaves  some  kind  of  path  behind.  We  do  not  know  in  the 
least  what  is  the  nature  of  this  path  except  that  it  becomes 
easier  for  the  next  neural  current  in  the  gray  matter  to  travel 
through  the  path  of  its  predecessor  than  to  pass  where  no  cur- 
rent has  gone  before. 
For  every  time  that  a 
path  is  traveled  it 
becomes  easier  of 
travel  for  currents. 
This  forms  the  physi- 
cal basis  for  habit, 
memory,  and  associa- 
tion. 

These  neural  paths 
may  be  likened  to  a 
path  through  a  forest, 
or  to  the  channels 
of  water  in  a  delta. 
For  every  animal  that 
passes  over  the  path 
it  becomes  more  defi- 
nite and  deeper.  But 
if  it  is  left  unused,  it 
will  finally  be  over- 
grown and  obliterated. 
In  fact,  it  is  always  becoming  effaced,  and  it  must  have  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  use  to  be  kept  in  existence.  This  plasticity 
of  the  nervous  system  is  greatest  in  childhood  and  then  gradually 
decreases  throughout  life,  until  in  extreme  old  age  it  sometimes 
vanishes  almost  completely.  F^nce  in  childhood  we  learn 
easily  and  forget  easily,  and  in  old  age  we  may  find  it  impossible 
to  acquire  anything  new,  while  our  old  memories  are  as  intact 
as  ever. 

Certain  portions  of  the  cortex,  or  gray  matter,  of  the  cerebrum 
are  supposed  to  be  connected  with  certain  sense  organs  from 


Medulla 


THE  BRAIN  AS  SEEN  FROM  BELOW 
The  cranial  nerves  are  numbered. 


334  Appendix 

which  they  receive  stimuli.  The  visual,  auditory,  olfactory,  and 
tactual  centers  are  quite  clearly  determined;  the  visual  centers 
in  the  occipital  lobes,  the  auditory  in  that  portion  of  the  cortex 
a  little  above  and  behind  the  ear,  the  olfactory  probably  in  the 
median  lower  parts  of  the  temporal  lobes,  and  the  tactual 
along  the  fissure  of  Rolando.  The  centers  for  taste  are  not  so 
exactly  located,  but  are  thought  to  be  near  the  olfactory  centers. 
A  large  group  of  the  cells  of  the  cortex  known  as  the  region  of 
Rolando,  because  near  the  fissure  of  Rolando,  is  thought  to  be 
in  connection  with  the  voluntary  muscles.  If  a  portion  of  this 
region  is  injured,  as  by  the  pressure  of  a  blood  clot,  a  sliver  of 
bone,  or  a  foreign  substance  that  has  penetrated  to  it,  the 
muscle  which  has  its  nerve  centers  in  the  injured  region  becomes 
paralyzed. 

There  are  also  supposed  to  be  in  the  cortex  of  the  cerebrum, 
association  centers,  whose  function  is  to  unite  the  various  sensory 
v*  centers. 

^  So  interrelated  are  the  sensory  centers  of  the  cerebrum,  that 
the  loss  of  the  use  of  one  center  produces  disturbances  in  other 
centers.  For  instance,  the  destruction  of  the  auditory  centers 
would  result  not  only  in  a  loss  of  one's  power  to  hear  or  to 
remember  what  had  previously  been  heard,  but  even  in  loss  of 
power  to  speak,  provided  the  person  so  injured  used  auditory 
images  in  formulating  his  speech.  This  crippled  condition  of  a 
sensory  center  is  called  ajjhjjsia. 

The  tissues  of  the  gray  matter  are  constantly  wearing  out 
and  being  replaced.  There  is  evidently  an  immaterial  pattern 
and  force  that  fits  into  place  according  to  its  own  laws  the 
particles  of  matter  as  they  come  and  go.  And  not  only  is  the 
organic  structure  of  the  brain  maintained,  but  the  neural  paths 
are  also  reproduced  and  perpetuated. 

Our  clear  consciousness  is  connected  only  with  the  neural 
events  of  the  cerebrum,  it  is  asserted.  The  other  nerve  centers 
are  connected  with  subconsciousness.  And  with  many  functions 
of  even  the  cerebrum  our  mind  is  only  subconsciously  connected. 

The  Cerebellum.  —  The  cerebellum,  like  the  cerebrum,  is 
made  up  of  gray  and  white  matter.  Little  is  known  concern- 
ing the  functions  of  this  organ,  but  it  is  thought  to  be  a 


Appendix 


335 


coordinating  center,  regulating  the  currents  started  in  the  cere- 
brum, so  that  the  complicated  movements  necessary  to  the  body  in 
its  various  activities  may  be  performed  in  an  orderly  manner. 
The  cerebellum  is  also  thought  to  serve  as  a  relay  station  to 
strengthen  the  messages  sent  out  by  the  cerebrum. 

The  Medulla  Oblongata.  —  An  enlarged  portion  of  the  spinal 
cord  just  below  the  cerebellum,  called  the  medulla  oblongata, 
is  often  spoken  of  as  a  coordinate  part  of  the  nervous  system 
with  the  brain  and  the  spinal  cord.  The  tissues  of  the  medulla 


or 

Orau 
Hotter 
Anterior Root 

A  CROSS  SECTION  OP  THE  SPINAL  CORD 

The  white  matter  is  really  filled  with  nerve  fibers,  but  in  the  figure  these  are 
shown  at  only  one  point. 

consist  of  a  complex  mixture  of  nerve  fibers  and  nerve  cells. 
Through  the  fibers,  messages  are  transmitted  from  the  brain 
down  to  the  spinal  cord  and  in  the  opposite  direction.  The 
cells  of  the  medulla  are  connected  with  the  control  of  the  respira- 
tory and  circulatory  organs. 

The  Spinal  Cord.  —  In  the  spinal  cord  the  arrangement  of  the 
gray  matter  and  white  matter  is  the  reverse  of  that  shown  in 
the  brain,  the  white  matter  being  on  the  outside  and  the  gray 
matter  within.  A  cross  section  will  show  the  gray  matter  in 
the  form  of  a  capital  H.  Two  projections  point  inward  and  two 


336 


Appendix 


point   outward.     They  are  called  the   anterior   and  posterior 

projections  respectively. 

A  very  important  function  of  the  spinal  cord  is  its  power  to 

produce  reflex  action;  that  is, 
action  in  immediate  response  to 
sensory  stimulation  without  the 
direction  of  the  cerebrum.  In- 
stances of  such  action  are  sneez- 
ing, the  twitching  of  the  foot 
when  something  tickles  it,  or  an 
involuntary  shiver  when  a  cold 
draft  is  felt. 

Through  the  spinal  cord  im- 
pulses pass  upward  and  down- 
ward from  the  brain  to  the  sense 
organs  and  muscles  and  from  the 
sense  organs  and  muscles  to  the 
brain. 


THE  PERIPHERAL  NERVOUS 
SYSTEM 

The  central  nervous  system 
communicates  with  the  rest  of 
the  body  by  means  of  a  series  of 
nerves  and  nerve  endings  known 
as  the  peripheral  nervous  system. 

There  are  two  groups  of  these 
nerves — the  cranial  nerves,  which 
carry  messages  to  and  from  the 
brain  without  entering  the  spinal 
cord,  and  the  spinal  nerves. 

The  cranial  nerves,  of  which 
there  are  twelve  pairs,  have  con- 


DlAGBAM  ILLUSTRATING  A  SlMPLB 
REFLEX  ACTION 

The  impulse  from  the  sense  organ 
passes  in  over  the  nerve  fiber,  d, 
and  may  pass  up  to  the  brain 
over  a— c.  But  a  part  may  b3 
switched  off  through  e  down  the 
fiber  /  to  the  muscle,  causjng  it 
to  contract  without  the  aid  of 
the  brain. 


trol  of  the  muscles  of  the  face  and  carry  impulses  communicated 
to  them  by  the  nose,  the  eye,  the  ear,  and  the  tongue. 
.  The  spinal  nerves  branch  out  from  the  spinal  cord,  thirty-one 
on  each  side.    Each  nerve  has  two  roots,  one  arising  from  the 


Appendix  337 

posterior  projection  of  the  gray  matter,  and  called  the  posterior 
root,  the  other  arising  from  the  anterior  projection  and  called 
the  anterior  root. 

By  experiment,  it  has  been  ascertained  that  the  function  of 
the  posterior  root  is  to  bearjcrthe  ^spinal  corcLsengoj-y  .impulses 
coming  from  the  various  parts  of  the  body ;  while  the  anterior 
rootslirTconcerne(I  with  the  motor  impulses,  whicj^arejsent  out 
by  the  brain  or  spinal  cord  to  the  muscles. 

The  ~nerves~which  have  to  do  with  incoming  or  sensory  im- 
pulses are  called  afferent  nerves;  those  which  have  to  do  with 
outgoing  or  motor  impulses  are  called  efferent  nerves. 

THE  SYMPATHETIC  SYSTEM  OF  NERVES 

In  addition  to  the  central  and  peripheral  nervous  systems, 
there  is  a  series  of  nerve  cells  and  nerve  fibers  to  which  has  been 
given  the  name  of  the  sympathetic  system. 

This  system  consists  of  two  strands  of  nerve  tissue,  which 
are  found  within  the  cavity  of  the  body,  one  on  each  side  of  the 
spinal  cord.  Each  strand  of  nerve  tissue  is  connected  with 
each  of  the  spinal  nerves  on  its  side  of  the  cord  by  a  mass  of 
nerve  cells. 

The  sympathetic  system  has  not  the  power  to  originate  im- 
pulses, but  can  take  up  impulses  communicated  to  it  by  the 
spinal  nerves  from  the  brain  and  spinal  cord. 

The  nerves  of  this  system  are  thought  to  have  to  do  with  the 
functions  of  several  of  the  large  organs  of  the  body,  such  as 
regulating  the  action  of  the  blood  vessels  in  the  abdominal 
region,  and  controlling  the  secretions  of  the  liver. 

As  a  rule,  the  impulses  which  are  carried  by  the  sympathetic 
system  are  not  under  the  control  of  the  will . 

THE  FUNCTION  OF  THE  NERVOUS  SYSTEM 

The  function  of  the  nervous  system  is  to  convert  stimuli 
into  motor  reactions.  The  end-organs  of  the  sensory  nerves  in 
the  different  sense  organs  pick  up  stimuli  for  each  sense  of  its 
peculiar  kind.  The  neural  current  excited  in  the  nerve,  often 
first  passing  through  several  inferior  centers,  finally  lands  in 


338  Appendix 

the  cortex  of  the  brain  in  the  region  appropriate  to  that  sense. 
Then,  if  not  inhibited  by  consciousness,  a  counter  current  is 
started  which  travels  out  from  the  brain  to  some  muscle  and 
causes  a  motor  reaction.  The  motor  reaction  is  specific  for 
each  variety  of  stimuli,  and  is  fixed  by  instinct  unless  modified 
by  habit. 

In  man  and  the  higher  animals  consciousness  can  at  any  time 
step  in  and  inhibit,  delay,  or  change  the  kind  of  motor  response. 

As  we  have  seen,  it  is  not  necessary  in  all  cases  for  the  sensory 
current  to  go  all  the  way  to  the  cortex  to  produce  a  motor 
reaction.  In  habitual  actions,  and  in  the  fundamental  instincts, 
it  seems  that  a  motor  current  is  started  from  the  spinal  cord 
as  soon  as  the  sensory  current  arrives  there. 


INDEX 


abstract  altruism,  249. 

abstract  principles,  the  man  of, 
190. 

abstraction,  53. 

acquired  impulse,  155. 

active  side  of  human  nature,  185. 

adolescence,  early,  chapter 
XXIV,  p.  238;  dangers  of 
sexual  ignorance,  243 ;  general 
characteristics,  238 ;  moral 
training  of,  191 ;  right  kind 
of  teacher  for,  241 ;  summary 
of,  245;  time  for  acquiring 
moral  habits,  162;  time  for 
character  development,  240 ; 
time  for  fixation  of  habit,  241 ; 
unsettled,  239. 

adventure,  love  of,  121. 

aesthetic  education,  144. 

aesthetic  emotions  and  interests, 
123. 

agriculture,  308. 

analysis  and  comparison,  chapter 
IX,  p.  87;  functions  of,  87; 
limit  of  area  of,  89 ;  pedagogy 
of,  89. 

anger,  127;  cure  for,  131;  ex- 
pression of,  130. 

animal  nature  under  control, 
148. 

"answer  in  complete  sentences," 
fallacy,  271. 

antinatural,  the,  147. 


apperceiving  mass,  27. 

apperception,  27;  example  of, 
25 ;  process  of,  26. 

a  priori  knowledge,  66. 

arrested  development,  174. 

art,  how  to  teach  an,  chapter 
XXVIII,  p.  285 ;  of  question- 
ing, 271 ;  of  studying,  chapter 
XXV,  p.  255. 

arts,  aesthetic,  294;  courses  in, 
298;  inteUectual,  289;  of 
civilization,  288. 

asceticism,  248. 

aspects  of  the  mind,  7. 

association,  or  synthesis,  chap- 
ter X,  p.  92 ;  logical,  92 ;  me- 
chanical, 93. 

athletics,  302. 

attendant  bodily  feelings,  120. 

attention,  chapter  VIII,  p.  74; 
characteristics  of,  76;  invol- 
untary, 80 ;  pedagogy  of,  83 ; 
periods  of,  78;  spontaneous, 
80;  voluntary,  80. 

attitude,  critical,  259;  proper, 
for  study,  258;  sympathetic, 
259 ;  towards  life,  210. 

audiles,  256. 

authority,  65. 

axioms,  65. 


balance  of  mind,  148. 
baric  sense,  30. 


339 


340 


Index 


bookkeeping,  312. 

boy  scout  movement,  326. 

building  air  castles,  40. 

camp  fire  girls,  327. 

carriage  of  the  body,  218. 

causation,  66. 

character,  chapter  XXI,  p.  197. 

child,  the,  a  materialist,  246 ; 
not  sentimental,  229;  self- 
centered,  246;  small  store  of 
associations  of,  222;  swayed 
by  present  impulse,  227;  util- 
itarian, 247 ;  world  of,  222. 

child  study,  220. 

childhood,  chapter  XXIII,  p.  220; 
ages  of,  two,  221 ;  not  the 
time  for  technical  training, 
305;  summary  of,  236. 

children,  admiration  of  strength 
and  cunning  in,  233;  dy- 
namic interests,  318;  estates 
for,  327;  fondness  for  repeti- 
tion of,  231 ;  imitativeness,  232 ; 
impulsive  and  emotional  life, 
227 ;  interests  and  how  to  ap- 
peal to  them,  229;  primitive 
morality,  232;  small  store  of 
associations,  222 ;  suggesti- 
bility, 232. 

classification  of  feelings  and  im- 
pulses, chapter  XIII,  p.  118. 

clearness  and  definiteness,  268. 

closing  exercises,  value  of,  85. 

color,  13. 

color  blindness,  14. 

commercialism,  177. 

commercial  subjects,  312. 

comparison,  how  it  aids  analysis, 
88. 

composition,  294. 


concept,  class,  or  scientific,  54; 
evolution  of,  54 ;  logical  classes 
of,  59;  practical,  54;  and 
symbol,  56;  without  symbol 
impossible,  56. 

conception  and  judgment,  chap- 
ter VI,  p.  53. 

consciousness,  clear,  or  complete, 
75 ;  diagram,  76 ;  field  of,  6 ; 
fringe  of,  75. 

constructive  thought,  275. 

contrast  of  thought  and  feeling, 
145. 

control  and  development  of  cer- 
tain impulses  and  emotions, 
chapter  XIV,  p.  127. 

cortex  of  brain,  44. 

courage,  121,  127. 

critical  attitude,  259. 

critical  thought,  275. 

critical  period  in  habit  formation, 
158. 

cruelty  to  animals,  134,  175. 

cultivation  of  ideals,  195. 

culture,  chapter  XV,  p.  144; 
analysis  of,  147;  in  one's 
vocation,  149;  in  study  of 
Latin  and  Greek,  150,  151 ; 
means  of  acquiring,  149 ;  place 
in  curriculum,  288 ;  social,  297. 

day  dreaming,  40. 

definitions,  logical  form  of,  56. 

desire,  100,  165,  182 ;  and  ideal 
differentiated,  182 ;  for  knowl- 
edge, 122 ;  the  strongest,  183. 

domestic  economy,  311. 

dramatic  art,  294. 

dramatic  instinct  in  children,  230. 

drawing  and  painting,  295, 

drill,  value  of,  51, 


Index 


341 


ear,  the,  255. 

education,  American  ideal  of, 
151 ;  function  of,  8, 19, 34 ;  into 
consciousness,  287;  out  of 
consciousness,  288. 

educational  reorganization,  chap- 
ter XXX,  p.  314. 

emotions,  classified,  118;  short- 
lived and  variable,  1 10 ;  stand- 
ard of,  146. 

exactness  in  practice,  159. 

exceptions,  158. 

experience  as  a  source  of  knowl- 
edge, 62. 

expression  of  impulses  and  emo- 
tions, 111. 

extension,  as  element  in  sensa- 
tion, 19 ;  of  concepts,  54. 

eye,  the,  255;  training  of,  at 
expense  of  the  ear,  256. 

faith,  66,  207. 

fashion,  147. 

fatigue,  135. 

fear,  121,  127;  physiological 
effects  of,  128 ;  suppression  of 
expression,  129. 

feeling,  10,  105. 

feelings,  impulses  and  their  ex- 
pression, chapter  XII,  p.  105. 

feelings  and  impulses,  fluctua- 
tion of,  167;  pedagogy  of, 
145;  relations  of,  105. 

fine  arts,  144. 

flavors,  16. 

form,  30. 

formal  grammar  not  for  children, 
226. 

Foss,  SAM,  quoted,  211. 

freedom,  need  of  allowing,  188. 

future  self,  172. 


generalization,  53 ;  too  hasty,  90. 
good  taste,  146,  147,  297. 
government,  school,  323. 
Greek  and  Latin,  study  of,  150, 

151. 

grief,  140. 
growing  old,  250. 

habit,    chapter   XVI,    p.    153; 

element    in    character,    161; 

function  of,  155;    laws,  156; 

moral,     162;     motive,     154; 

pedagogy  of,   156;    personal, 

162;     servant    not    master, 

163 ;  technical,  154. 
hand,  the,  255. 
hearing,  14;   space  relations  of, 

33. 

hedonism,  106. 
hero  worship,  190. 
honesty,    intellectual,    71;     in 

children,  234. 
human   nature,   4;    periods  in 

evolution  of,  221. 
hygiene  of  emotions,  140. 

ideal,  effective  without  emotion, 
183;  development  of,  180; 
struggle  with  desire,  183. 

ideal  human  personality,  179. 

idealism,  lack  of,  in  mature  life, 
250. 

ideals,  168,  172,  178 ;  contrasted 
with  desires,  169  ff. ;  creation 
of,  chapter  XX,  p.  190;  his- 
torical evolution  of,  176; 
incidental  inculcation  of,  192; 
or  rational  interests,  chapter 
XVII,  p.  165 ;  primitive,  176, 
180 ;  result  of  choice,  170. 

ideas  as  stimuli,  165. 


342 


Index 


illusion,  example  of,  28. 

imagination,  chapter  IV,  p.  36; 
and  perception,  36 ;  dissipation 
of,  41 ;  kinds,  37 ;  practical 
value  of,  37;  trained  for  ac- 
curacy, 38;  enrichment,  39; 
used  for  recreation,  40. 

imitation,  132. 

impulse,  10,  99 ;  contrasted  with 
ideals,  169  ff. ;  dependent  on 
stimuli,  166;  intermittent  in 
nature,  167 ;  to  construct,  121 ; 
to  defend,  121,  127;  to  de- 
stroy, 121 ;  to  flee  or  hide, 
127;  to  own,  122;  to  work, 
137. 

impulses,  gradation  of,  103 ;  how 
to  control,  112;  pedagogy  of, 
116;  shortlived,  110;  sub- 
conscious, 102. 

indecent,  effect  of  the,  208. 

induction,  63. 

industrial  education,  305  ff . 

industrial  efficiency,  177. 

inhibition,  99,  179. 

inner  side  of  experience,  the,  144. 

instinct,  100,  165,  185;  and  de- 
sire differentiated,  102. 

integrity  of  intellect,  67. 

intellectual  courage,  260. 

intellectual  emotions  and  motives 
122. 

intension  of  concept,  54. 

interest,  268;  center  of,  175; 
how  to  awaken,  83 ;  in  others, 
173;  laws  of,  82. 

interests  of  childhood,  318. 

judgment,  60 ;  kinds  of,  60 ;  pred- 
icate of,  event  concept,  60; 
subject  of,  space  concept,  60. 


knowledge  based  on  faith,  65. 

language  as  part  of  curriculum, 

290;    learning    a,    258;    the 

sciences  of,  282. 
law,  principle,  67. 
laws,  of  association,  93  ff. ;  of 

attention,  76  ff . ;  of  habit,  156 ; 

of  interest,  82  ff . 
lecturing  by  professors,  257. 
light,  sensation  of,  13. 
literature,  291  ff. 
living  and  making  a  living,  306. 
love,  133 ;  of  humanity,  174. 
LOWELL,  JAMES  RUSSELL,  quoted, 

214. 
loyalty,    234,    325;     to    ideals, 

195. 

major  special  senses,  11. 

man    as    a    reacting    organism, 

chapter  XI,  p.  98,  4,  314. 
manual  training,  304. 
mathematics,    course    in,    279; 

study  of,  279. 
meaning,  53. 
mechanical  element  in  education, 

161. 
memorizing,  in  studying  history, 

261. 
memory,     chapter    V,    p.    43; 

analysis  of,  44;   auditory,  46; 

gustatory,    47;     logical,    47; 

mechanical,   49;    motor,   46; 

olfactory,  47;    physical  basis 

of,    43;     recognition   in,   44; 

reproduction    in,     44;    sense 

classes  of,  45 ;  tactile,  46 ;  the 

pedagogy  of,  50 ;  visual,  45. 
militarism,  177. 
military  discipline,  187. 


Index 


343 


minor  special  senses,  11. 

MONTESSORI  method,  314 ;  Chil- 
dren's Houses,  316 ;  exaggera- 
tion of  sense  training  in,  317 ; 
motor  training  in,  316;  no 
literature  in,  321 ;  sense  train- 
ing in,  315 ;  social  education 
in,  317 ;  spontaneous  self -direc- 
tion, 322 ;  teaching  of  reading 
and  writing  by,  320;  the 
government  of  children  in, 
323 ;  the  silent  directress,  323. 

moral  battleground,  184. 

moral  interests,  124. 

moral  training,  191. 

morality,  teaching  of,  191  ff. 

morbid,  effect  of  the,  207. 

morbidity,  139,  248. 

motiles,  256. 

motive  habits,  154. 

motives,  106;  gradation  and 
classification  of,  103;  lower, 
to  be  subordinated,  114  ff. 

motor  element,  229,  258. 

motor  emotions  and  interests, 
121. 

motor  process,  184. 

motor  sense,  16,  315. 

muscular  sense,  16. 

music,  296. 

natural  sciences,  277  ff . 

newspaper  reading,  41. 

noise,  15. 

notebook,  suggestions  in  regard 

to,  261. 
novel  reading,  40. 

obedience  to  common  will,  324. 
occipital  lobes,  12. 
odors,  16. 


optimism,  211. 
organic  functions,  103. 
organic  sensations,  17. 
organization  of  associations,  96. 

patent  medicine  vender,  244. 

pathetic,  the,  140. 

paths  in  nerve  centers,  153. 

patriotism,  174. 

perception,  chapter  III,  p.  24; 
analysis  of,  25;  disease  of 
civilization  affecting,  34;  fac- 
tors hi,  26;  gustatory,  33; 
memory  as  element  hi,  26  ff . ; 
motor,  29 ;  of  distance,  32  ff . ; 
of  duration,  32 ;  of  effort,  30 ; 
of  form  or  extension,  30;  of 
space,  29;  of  surface,  30;  of 
temperature,  33;  of  third 
dimension,  31 ;  olfactory,  33 ; 
organic,  34 ;  past  experience  as 
element  in,  27;  relation  to 
sensation,  29;  tactile,  29; 
training  of,  34 ;  visual,  30. 

perverted  emotions,  138. 

physical  basis,  of  association, 
94 ;  of  habit,  153 ;  of  memory, 
43. 

physical  culture,  302. 

physical  education,  300. 

piety,  234. 

pitch,  15. 

plodding  through  life,  211. 

practical  and  dynamic  interests, 
318. 

primary  senses,  315. 

"Progressive  Road  to  Reading" 
series,  321. 

psychology,  value  of  study  of,  to 
educator,  3. 

public  spirit,  174, 


344 


Index 


questioning,  art  of,  271. 

rational  interests,  168,  170,  182 ; 
as  ideal  selves,  172 ;  sphere  of, 
173. 

react,  the  tendency  to,  202. 

reactions,  to  stimuli,  98 ;  specific, 
108;  subconscious,  202,  204. 

reasoning,  chapter  VII,  p.  62; 
deductive,  68;  inductive,  62; 
pedagogy  of,  69. 

recitation,  chapter  XXVI,  p.  264 ; 
drill  in,  266 ;  in  history,  267 ; 
in  mathematics,  266;  in  oral 
language,  267;  in  spelling, 
267;  in  written  languaglf  267 ; 
pupils  as  critics  in,  272;  pur- 
poses of,  264 ;  the  logical  chain, 
270;  the  test  in,  264;  topi- 
cal, 270;  training  in  culture 
in,  270;  training  in  thought 
in,  268  ff. 

reflex  action,  102. 

religious  emotions  and  interests, 
125. 

remorse,  139. 

reorganization  of  curriculum, 
327;  of  education  of  infants, 
327 ;  of  elementary  education, 
328;  of  secondary  education, 
329 ;  summary  of,  330. 

repetition,  156. 

representative  image,  57. 

responsiveness  to  suggestion,  203. 

science,  how  to  teach,  chapter 
XXVII,  p.  274 ;  of  arithmetic 
not  for  children,  226. 

sciences,  classification  of,  277; 
course  in,  278;  double  object 
of,  274;  of  languages,  282; 


place  in  school  curriculum, 
276 ;  pupil's  duty  in  studying, 
284;  teacher's  duty  in  teach- 
ing, 283 ;  value  of  laboratory 
work  to  understanding  of,  278. 

self -centered  emotions  and  inter- 
ests, 119. 

self-control,  115,  197. 

selfishness,  133. 

self-preservation,  120,  127. 

self-realization,  120. 

selves,  choice  and  renunciation 
of,  178;  our,  chapter  XVIII, 
p.  172 ;  social,  176 ;  system  of, 
173. 

sensation  and  the  senses,  chapter 
II,  p.  10 ;  analysis  of,  20  ff . ; 
pedagogy  of,  19;  the  organic, 
17;  the  spatial  element  of, 
19. 

sense,  motor  or  muscular,  16; 
of  hearing,  14;  of  sight,  12; 
of  smell,  16;  of  taste,  16;  of 
touch,  15 ;  of  temperature,  16. 

senses,  classification  of,  11 ;  or- 
ganic, 11,  16;  special,  11. 

sensitiveness,  147. 

sentimentality,  138. 

sewing,  311. 

sex,  method  of  teaching  facts 
concerning,  244. 

shorthand,  312. 

skill  hi  thinking,  274. 

sloyd,  304.  ^/ 

social  culture,  297. 

social  emotions  and  interests, 
123,  132. 

social  sciences,  280;  purpose  of 
studying,  280. 

sound,  15. 

sowing  wild  oats,  162. 


Index 


345 


space  element  in  sensations,  19. 

space  senses,  32. 

spelling,  290. 

spiritual  atmosphere,  214. 

standard  of  emotional  life,  146. 

stimuli,  98,  165. 

store  of  knowledge,  276. 

stream  of  thought,  205. 

subconscious  life,  chapter  XXII, 
p.  201;  effect  of,  on  health, 
206. 

subconscious  motor  impulses, 
185. 

subconscious  reactions,  102. 

subconsciousness,  201 ;  charac- 
teristics of,  202;  does  not 
understand  a  negative,  207; 
our  control  of,  206 ;  pedagogi- 
cal observations  concerning, 
218 ;  repository  for  products  of 
conscious  activity,  205;  sum- 
mary of,  216-219. 

suggestions,  cumulative  effect  of, 
204;  from  other's  thoughts, 
212;  protection  against  evil, 
208;  responsiveness  to,  203; 
should  be  positive,  207. 

syllogism,  the,  68. 

symbol  and  concept,  56. 

sympathy,  71,  133,  259. 

tabu  morality,  235. 

teaching,  old  and  new  compared, 

51. 
technical  habits,  154;   pedagogy 

of,  chapter  XXIX,  p.  300. 


13 


telepathy,  213. 

thinking,  children's,  222;  com- 
mon, 225 ;  is  helped  by  physi- 
cal culture,  301;  philosophic, 
225;  scientific,  225. 

thought  contrasted  with  feelings, 
7;  original,  71. 

time  for  the  hardest  work,  84. 

time  senses,  32. 

tire  pouits,  135. 

tone,  15. 

triangle  of  education,  the,  8. 

typewriting,  312. 

unity  of  the  human  being,  5. 
universal  motive,  106, 

visual  sensations,  13. 
visualizers,  256. 
vividness,  268. 
voluntary  action,  182. 
voluntary  process,  184. 

WARD  method,  321. 

WEBER'S  law,  17. 

will,  chapter  XIX,  p.  182 ;  func- 
tion of,  182 ;  training  of,  187 ; 
works  by  inhibition,  185. 

willing  a  negative  process,  185. 

work,  258. 

writing,  303. 

youth,  chapter  XXIV,  p.  238; 
aesthetic,  247;  an  idealist, 
246;  ethics  of,  248;  mental 
diseases  of,  248;  social,  246; 
sphere  of  instruction  for,  252. 


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